


Remember, Remember

by AsheTarasovich (natalieashe), Boffin1710



Category: James Bond (Craig movies)
Genre: Abuse, Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Character Death, Disfigurement, Guilt, Hacking, Injury, Kidnapping, M/M, Mutilation, Permanent Injury, Punishment, Recovery, Rehabilitation, Revenge, Therapy, Torture, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, no happy ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-23
Updated: 2016-10-15
Packaged: 2018-08-16 22:43:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 55
Words: 26,968
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8120368
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/natalieashe/pseuds/AsheTarasovich, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Boffin1710/pseuds/Boffin1710





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Tsuyu](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tsuyu/gifts).



 

The fifth of November,

The Gunpowder treason and plot;

I know of no reason

Why the Gunpowder treason

Should ever be forgot!

 

Everyone knows recognizes a few of those words associated with Guy Fawkes Day, Fireworks Night, Bonfire Night, Gunpowder Day. But for James and Alec, the ultimate word there was treason.  And for James and Alec,  they will always remember the 5th of November as the day they almost lost their Quartermaster. The day that changed the dynamics of their lives forever.

Bond stood in the sterile room, lights dimmed to just barely illuminate the surroundings.  He lingered, pacing at the edge of the doorway, as if any moment he would need an escape route back out of the room.  Thoughts churned in his head playing over and over what had brought them to this place in time... the what if moments ... had seen, anticipated, later, earlier, faster, slower…  Nothing could be done to go back and change what had happened. Nothing could change the beeping of the monitors, the whoosh of the ventilator, the soft murmurings of voices checking scans, vitals, offering encouragement to wake.

It was when the beeping of the monitors began a long maddening flat single tone, Bond was suddenly jerked back from his reverie and froze in place staring.   Staff around him frantically doing everything they could to resuscitate one of MI6’s most valuable assets.

Time stopped and he prayed to god or gods that he wasn't quite sure he believed in.  When the faint beep of the monitors began again, Bond realized In those moments of that long maddening flat single tone, he had been holding his breath.  And, he finally realised, that this was the one he would never quite be able to replace, never get over, never move beyond, never not love.  Alec had allowed himself to feel this, understand this connection, weeks ago.  Why had he fought it, not understood... just let it happen?   

Only the attending and Bond remained in the room now.  Stepping forward, he silently pulled a hard plastic chair from the far side of the room to the open side of the bed without the monitors.  There he stationed himself,  taking up guard duty.  A calloused hand slowly closed around cool slender fingers lying on the stark white sheets, so similar in colour.  

Recovery was going to be difficult. And he would not allow any other option to be considered.  Alec was set to return to home soil soon.  They would need to talk and plan.  


	2. Chapter 2

Five days 7 hours and 2.5 minutes earlier...   
  
Loud shrill ringing of his work mobile pulled James instantly awake.  Hand fumbled around on the bedside table, "Bond"   James was already out of the bed in mission mode, pulling on clothes. 

"Is the Quartermaster there, 007?" Tanner's voice quickly, urgently quizzed him.     
  
“No...  I don't know.  He texted that he was on his way… Tanner never called without a reason.  It was never just chit chat. “But that was over three bloody hours ago though.” as he glanced at his watch.   
  
Mobile tucked under his chin against his shoulder, he was pulling his boots and checking the rest of the flat as he heard Tanner say, "We seem have a situation 007. The Quartermaster obviously didn't arrive home and the his staff driver didn't return to headquarters after supposedly dropping Q off at his flat."      
  
James shoved his Walther into that waistband of his trousers and hurried downstairs.  There was no sign of Q ever returning home that night at all there either.   "I'm on my way Tanner.  Keep talking.  What do we know."  
  
"One moment, Bond."  James could hear muttering in the background as Tanner muffled the mobile against his shoulder, then he came back on the line.  "Q was clocked by security leaving in the back of a staff car.  We have an ID on the driver, and he was an employee, relatively recent appointment."

"Your next words better be that there were no cock-ups and he was properly vetted," James growled, tossing the keys for the Aston away and grabbing Alec's Range Rover set instead. All the better for intimidating awkward drivers or slow pedestrians to get out of his fucking way.

"All looks to be in order Bond, but I will, of course, go over it myself.  You'll be first to know of any discrepancies."

"Never mind that, what do we know of him already?  And the car?  It has tracking.  They all do; Q was bloody obsessive about that little project."

Tanner suppressed a sigh and began flipping through papers.  James shook away the thought that Q would be frustrated by the lack of technology in the Chief of Staff's hand.  "William Steadfast.  42 years old.  Ex-military, pensioned out early on ill-health grounds, um..."  More rustling.  "Gunshot in Afghanistan shattered his femur, now has a rod in it."

"What the fuck...?" James roared at a Ford Ka that swerved into his lane, the teenage driver giving him a two finger salute.  "Fuck you!"  He floored the Range Rover, overtaking on a roundabout, and hoping to god the cameras were pointing the other way.

"Doing our best, 007"  Tanner said mildly, though the edge of urgency was still there.  "Hold on...  Hell!  They've found the car, and the driver with it."


	3. Chapter 3

The chair was hard and unforgiving on Bond's legs, not designed for the many hours he had been sitting by the bedside.  The crispness of the sheets and the flat smooth tight stretch of them over the unmoving body was starting to irritate him.  "Move, damn you" he murmured into the intolerable quiet.  with nothing else to do, his mind drifted.

Tanner directed him to where they had found the car.  And the body of the driver.  James stared at the perfect shot in the centre of the man's forehead and twisted his mouth at the idiot's surprised expression.  The driver had clearly never intended to deliver Q safely home.  The tracker had been disabled on the car, and he was far from any reasonable route to Q's flat.  whether he actually meant the Quartermaster any physical harm was still open to debate, and of significantly less importance now than Q's whereabouts.

"We're wasting time!  With all due respect"  Mallory raised an eyebrow at that. Bond's respect for him varied according to the weather. "Q is our most valuable asset and we're standing around waiting for his bloody analysts to come up with something!  He's been missing almost 24 hours!"

"That is their job, 007"  Mallory replied with patience he didn't feel.  Every moment the Quartermaster was gone was a countdown to Mallory having to declare him compromised, being held by an unknown hostile.  

The door to Mallory's office opened and Moneypenny rushed in with no apology for the interruption.  "Bond.  Sir.  A communication."  She said breathlessly, already handing Bond a tablet.  "For your eyes only.  And there is a box at reception.  Someone is bringing it up."

Bond took the tablet from Moneypenny with a slight nod of his head, unsure of what to expect.  Waiting uploaded on the tablet was a video waiting to play. With a slight indiscernible hitch in breath, Bond tapped the screen opening the video.  The camera panned a dark warehouse appearing room.  Nothing significant to give the any indication of location.  

It moved on to settle on a bald headed late middle aged man in a dark three piece suit.  A face that somewhere in the back of Bond’s mind looked familiar.  A face, from a long forgotten mission, he should know but could not place. 

 


	4. Chapter 4

What was more disturbing that in the foreground, hanging from chains in the ceiling was the slumped naked figure of the Quartermaster, back to the camera, no way to visually tell his status. There was a noticeable trail of blood visible smeared down his left arm where the presence of a tracker have been discovered and removed.

“What about the Smart Blood Project?” Tanner suddenly interjected. Bond paused the video not wanting his focus distracted by the voices around him. “Didn't Q inject himself?”

“With the initial prototype in the beginning stages.” R responded. “It was an initial trial run. It only worked about an eighth of the time. He moved on with refining it after that. I’ve already tried to activate it” R sighed. “No signal at the moment. We’ll keep attempting to activate it, but we don't have much hope that it will work.”

Moneypenny slipped a small package in front of Bond. His named was clearly printed in the front in neat tight script. “Security has scanned it. There appears to be nothing but a long strip of paper or fabric inside. However, they still recommend caution.”

Bond laid a hand on the package pulling it closer to himself, staring at the dangling figure of Q on the screen. He hesitating pressing the play button again on the video deciding to open the box instead. He pulled out a folding knife from his pocket, carefully slicing open the brown parcel paper. Sliding the package out, he handed the outer wrappings over to a nearby waiting tech for inspection and analysis.

Sitting the box down, he cautiously flipped the lid off the box with the tip of his knife. “Bond? What is it?” Mallory demanded. Bond gently moved the contents of the box around with a finger, eyes tightened and the expression on his face hardened. N

“Security thought it was a piece of paper. A message?” Moneypenny commented as she moves around the table.

“Oh it's a bloody message alright.” Bond snarled.

“What? Bond?” Bond slid the box over to Mallory and Tanner. Mallory immediately picked it up staring at the contents, a ribboned strip of pale skin, inch wide, 6 to 7 inches long. “How can you be sure it's from the Quartermaster?”

“Far corner. The edge of a tattoo, the distinct pattern and colouring.” Bond’s voice had dropped to a cold distant tone, the voice one assumed was the thing a mark heard in their final moments in this world. “It's from a tattoo on Q’s left thigh.” Not caring that someone might wonder how he knew of the placement of the tattoo on Q’s thigh, Bond poked the play button on the video once more with a vengeance.

Moneypenny looked sick. She knew the tattoo well, had more than once had the dubious pleasure of walking in on her friend in his pants, if not stark naked. "They've taken skin? He'll bleed to death. My god, that's barbaric!"

"Torture is rarely pleasant, Moneypenny. But, no, he's unlikely to bleed out but the pain will have been excruciating." Bond continued to watch, his face unconsciously turning into the killing mask men rarely lived to describe.

'Do you know the pain of losing a loved one, Mr James Bond?' English, with a trace of an accent. The bald man smiled fondly at the hanging Quartermaster. 'Don't worry. I will return your lover to you. However, you will receive him in bits and pieces...' The film faded into darkness and then a pained scream rang out before it halted play.

 


	5. Chapter 5

Mallory was the one to break the silence. "Well. We now know they mean business, whoever they are." He looked grimly at Bond who was focused on the small screen once more. He had silenced the tablet but was replaying the file, staring into the face of Q's captor, trying to place him. "Ideas, 007? Now is not the time to discuss your personal relationship with the Quartermaster, but if it has any bearing on his disappearance, I would hear the details now."

Bond handed off the tablet to R. "See what you can get from it. You have my permission to access any other emails sent to my direct account. I want stills sent to me within the hour and access to mission files from the last five years. With your permission Sir, I will work from your outer office. I would rather not be distracted by locating myself elsewhere in the building."

Mallory nodded. "Fine. Tanner, make your desk available to Bond. But Bond... Any and all intelligence comes to me first. I want a coordinated effort on this. No, foolish one man missions. Understood?"

"Sir." Bond acknowledged his superior's request but didn't agree to it. All present noticed, but no one commented.

Bond sat at Tanner’s desk utilizing his computer and sifting through paper trails also for a good three hours coming up with no reference for the face on the video. “Don’t tell me this is another one ice those missions that you failed to turn in your paperwork for and the old M ignored it completely.” Mallory growled in frustration.

Everyone was on edge with no trace at all so far as to who had abducted their Quartermaster. Q’s tech’s had search through CCTV footage only to find that a small child about the age of 7 or 8 had appeared from inside a crowd of tourist in front of the building. Ran towards the main entrance leaving the package addressed to Bond just outside the main doors. By the time a security officer reached the package, the child had disappeared into the crowd once more. Surveillance footage for blocks around turned up no trace of the child or anyone with a package resembling the one left for Bond. They were still waiting for the tests result to come back on the package itself to see if there would and fingerprints or trace elements that they could draw any conclusions.

Bond ignored Mallory’s remarks and kept digging through the stacks of files that Tanner had produced from him. R was in the process combing through Bond’s email and running their facial recognition software on the video. There was a strong possibility that if this was mission related, it had been so far in the past that the data may not have been entered into their databases.

 


	6. Chapter 6

Q roughly woke to his body still screaming in pain. Barely opening his left eye, the right one being swollen shut. Drool and blood wandered down his chin from his spilt lower lip. His arms and shoulder were beginning to numb from being suspended above his torso for an extended period of time. His thigh burned in pain from raw tissue laid open where a large strip of skin had once been. What hurt the worse was not being able to breathe completely. His sides burned, muscles ached and spasm from the multiple shocks from a Taser... 4 or more times. He couldn’t recall now. All he knew was that the shocks had started out minor and gradually grew in strength until he was convinced they were getting close to the lethal level.

“You’re awake.” He captor stepped up in front of him into his direct view, at least to where he knew someone was standing in front of him. Without his glasses and only one eye, there was no possible way he could make out the man’s face. The man grabbed him by the hair, pulling his face upwards, “I want you to know that this is not about you. I have no issue with you. It’s your Mr. Bond that I have an issue with and your association with him has unfortunately brought you to this place. Know that it will be his fault that if you are not dead by the time he finds you, you will be damaged beyond repair. He will have to live with that guilt.” He let go letting Q’s head fall back down, chin to his chest.  
  
“Take him down.” He ordered to someone else in the room that Q had no idea was there. “I want him to still breathe for a while. And since he is awake, I think it is time to move on to my next gift for Mr. Bond. I want him to hear his screams to go along with it.” Q felt someone next to him begin to loose the chains suspending his arms. “Tie him in that chair over there next to the table.”

 


	7. Chapter 7

The damned machines continued to sigh and hiss, taking on the strain of breathing while Q drifted somewhere. James hoped it was silent, peaceful. If Q had to listen to the incessant whining and beeping of machinery deep in his unconscious state he'd be pissed. Or maybe to Q, it would make him feel at home. It almost made James smile. Almost.

James reached out to stroke a lock of Q's hair away from his forehead and noticed the dressing over Q's ear was stained red again. The wound underneath was ugly, poorly fixed. They had done their best, O'Reilly had told him, but there wasn't enough tissue left to make a good job of it. Reconstructive cosmetic surgery of the ear was in Q's future, but the priority was to get his injuries healed and the infections cleared.

 

Thirty-eight hours and forty-five minutes since Tanner's phone call...

Bond stretched and smiled gratefully as Moneypenny set a takeaway coffee and paper bag on the edge of Tanner's desk. "Breakfast. Eat first, and then tell me what I can do to help."

Bond wasn't hungry but he knew the value of eating when food was available. The bread roll felt dry and chewy in his mouth, the bacon too salty and the mushrooms slimy, but he forced himself to swallow, swilling it down with the coffee. As he ate he passed Moneypenny a stack of paper files. "I've been thinking... This is personal, Moneypenny. They know who I am, where I work. They know that Q is my... Is someone of significance to me. It may be possible however, that they don't actually realise that they have the Quartermaster in their hands."

"How does that help us? Or help him?" Moneypenny sipped her own coffee and was already flipping through the first file.

"I don't know. But perhaps taking my... lover..." He paused, but there was no smart comment. It wasn't the time. "Maybe it's an eye for an eye? I harmed a lover? I want you to concentrate on the honey trap missions. A wife, a fiancee? Someone got hurt, and this bastard holds me responsible."

 


	8. Chapter 8

Q hissed as he was roughly thrown into a chair by some nondescript muscle. Still not completely in control of his faculties, but he was enough to know that even inch of his body seemed to be in some sort of pain or another. Straps tightened around his legs and arms but a hysterical giggle escaped from him as it all reminded him strapping Bond into the chair before administering the Smart Blood into his system. And some part of his brain wondered at the same time if the traces of Smart Blood in his system had decided to cooperate and were helping MI6 to locate him.

When a strap was buckled tightly around his neck, Q began to panic and struggle, only to be graced with the fact that his hands were being tightly restrained on the arms of the chair also. The chair was pulled close to the nearby table, and a large hand forcible pushed his left hand down on the table top, pinning it there.

Suddenly, Q realised what was happening and began to panic, struggle, and beg as his fingers were pulled wide apart. “Oh god no! Please don’t. Not this! Please! Just… No!” screaming, voice harsh and raw. Words quickly turned to sheer terror and pain.

  
Bond, Tanner and Moneypenny had managed to narrow down most of Bond’s mission files to honey trap missions separated from other categories. It was hard to imagine just how many of Bond’s mission’s fell into that category until one tangibly saw the pile of file folders and looked at the databases online.

“Do we have any intel at all from Q Branch? Anything recovered from the original packaging?” Mallory asked from where he stood leaning on the wooden doorway of his office. Shirt sleeves rolled up, looking haggard, he had been there right beside the rest of them, having not left the building since Q’s disappearance.

“Nothing at all, Sir.” Tanner piped up. “R is still attempting to get the Smart Blood factors in Q’s blood to come online.” he added just as his mobile rang.

“Yes. Alright. Have Security bring it up to M’s office as soon as they have cleared it.” Tanner sighed and turned to Bond. “There’s another package addressed to you. Left at the outer doors again. Security is bringing it up.”

  
Staring at the contents of that fucking box, and realising the significance of the small item that lay on the folded white cotton handkerchief, had been one of the worst moments of Bond's life. Q's hands were hidden beneath thick bandages, turning them into bloated mittens that rested uselessly on top of the blanket. Beneath the obscene wrappings, there were fingers missing. James hadn't found any of the medical staff willing to confirm how many yet, but there had been several more boxes over the following days, each containing a grisly prize. At least one other had also been a finger.

 


	9. Chapter 9

A nurse ghosted into the room and touched Bond's shoulder, making sure to approach him from the front. A distracted double O was not someone you wanted to surprise, and she had dealt with Bond numerous times as a patient. "I'm sorry, sir, you need to leave. We're going to prep him for theatre now."

"Why?" Bond's voice was gruff from emotion and lack of sleep. He cleared his throat and tried again. "I mean, what's this surgery for? Are there complications from the spleen and kidney removal?"

She smiled and hoped it was reassuring. Bond looked dreadful and hadn't left the Quartermaster's side for longer than it took to visit the bathroom since returning with him, even loitering outside the theatre while the worst of Q's internal injuries were operated on. "Everything is as good as can be expected with that. We need to try to pin his leg before the bone starts to knit of it's own accord. The bone is shattered, but there was still a good blood supply to the lower leg, so we could afford to leave it, but if we don't act now we could leave the Quartermaster with permanent damage."

Bond understood, but he didn't have to like it. He glared from the corner of the room as they prepared to move Q out. The sympathetic nurse gave him a wink just before the door swung shut behind them. "I'm sure no one will let slip that 007 was found fast asleep in the Quartermaster's hospital bed... and I won't chase said double O out of medical if he takes a nap."

 


	10. Chapter 10

"007? Bond?" James woke to knocking at the door and he looked around him confused and disoriented trying to work out where he was. Ah, Mallory's office. The cramped little leather Chesterfield in the corner that was not built for a man to sleep on. Most of his body was crammed between the upright arms, but his legs rested awkwardly on an office chair, and his head was pillowed on his suit jacket.

"Awake" he grumbled, and added "Decent." The last time Moneypenny had walked in he had been sitting in his shirt and pants, glass of Mallory's expensive Scotch in one hand and a list of missions in the other, searching for something to jog his memory.

This time however, it was R who entered, another tech on her heels carrying a laptop and some kind of monitor. She pointed to Mallory's desk. "Just set it up there, thanks Cal."

"What's this?" Bond wasn't sufficiently compos mentis to look at anything too technical if a branch minion was going to explain it.

"Well, the blood was obviously dry, and there wasn't much of it, but I thought it might be possible to test it to see if Q's version was still active. If so, we could possibly find some way to boost the signal... or communicate... or... well, we haven't really figured that part out yet, but..."

"The point, R?" Bond asked, not unkindly.

"Oh, right. Well, we took a sample of blood from one of the body... parts... and we managed to get a very weak signal. Very weak, but Cal here thinks he can possibly do something to amplify it. The blood still in Q's body, obviously." Icy blue eyes stared at her and she felt herself flush with embarrassment. About to apologise for wasting his time, she was silenced with a sharp comment. "Do it! Whatever, you can do, just work on it. We need all of the help we can get."


	11. Chapter 11

Q lay on the cold cement floor, hands cradled to his chest. He fought to stay awake but the room around him spun, fades in and out. Bile arose and he gagged at the smell of his own blood damping the floor in small trickles.

His embedded tracker was gone. His glasses were long since gone and broken so there was no hope of triggering the tracker hidden in them. And the Smart Blood he had at one point injected into himself, was slowing staining the floor underneath him, not that it worked. All he could do try to hang on and stay alive until someone found him, but he the thought floating in his head that wasn't logical either. MI6 was not going to find him. He would die here not knowing why.

“Are we ready to have some more fun, you and I?” The voice drifted to him from somewhere in the room. He was beyond being able to discern that fact. And he was beyond trying to fight his captor. He was a limp ragdoll in their hands as they slowly whittled away at him. He thought he heard footsteps moving past his head. “What do you think would be an appreciated present for your Mr. Bond this time? More fingers? Maybe more skin?”

Q struggled to make out the noises around him but there had already been so much damage that everything was just muffled noise that made no sense. “Maybe we need to be more creative this time. And I do hope you still have a few screams left in you. I'm sure Bond enjoys hearing your voice.”


	12. Chapter 12

Bond stood at the foot of Q’s hospital bed. It had been three hours since they had brought him back from the latest session in theatre. He leg was wrapped in multiple thick layers of gauze with metal rods sticking out. They had attached to a full leg length brace of black web meshing, that was surrounded by pillows padding his leg even further.

“Damn it Q! Wake up.” Bond’s voice cracked as he whispered, barely audible. “You have to wake up now.” Bond moved back to take up guard in the chair next to the head of the bed.

“Q Branch is in chaos without their evil overlord to to ride herd on them.”

Bond brushed a wayward dark curl back to the side that threatened to drift into Q’s closed eyes. “I know you are probably furious with me because this all happened because of a stupid indiscretion on my part. You need to wake up to tell me how stupid I was and scold me like you always do.”

A staff nurse from early quietly entered the room, checking monitors and marking patient charts. Making rounds before the end of her shift. She stopped at the foot of the bed. “His surgery went well. The surgeon stabilized the fractures. He believes after therapy he may have some limited mobility.”

“He’ll need to wake to have use of any mobility.” Bond’s eyes never left the prone figure of the Quartermaster.

“There’s always a possibly.” She offered as she replaces the charts and left the room as quiet as she has come in.

“I know you are in there somewhere. You have to be. Don't make me beg, you little shite!” 


	13. Chapter 13

Bond dozed, half in a dream, half aware of R, Cal and Moneypenny gathered around Mallory's desk, murmuring over the Smart blood program changes.  Mallory was getting his hands dirty in the outer office, trawling through more Intel from Q's team who were working around the clock for their leader.   
  
"I'll go grab some sandwiches from the canteen."  Moneypenny shouldered her bag and wandered past him, not even checking his status.   
  
"You're a gem" R called after her, fingers never pausing in their hypnotic rhythm.   
  
Bond stood at the edge of the room watching the mingling guests.  Wealthy Parisienne women were ten a penny, but the one he needed was nowhere to be seen.   
  
"James!"  A balding man in a dinner jacket swept up to him, hand outstretched.  James shook it and they exchanged the customary French greeting also. "So glad you could join us!"   
  
"It's a good idea to become friendly with the neighbours" James grinned, "it's generous of you to invite me.  Dining alone becomes tedious after the first few weeks, even for loners like myself."   
  
"Nonsense.  We'll soon have you a list of dinner dates I am sure.  You have drawn the notice of many of the ladies here tonight."     
  
The host nudged him and James obliged him with a charming smile. "The only lady I wish to pay my compliments to is your lovely wife, but I cannot find her anywhere."   
  
"Alas, Vivienne has been called away, so we are without our beloved hostess this evening. And I would be a fool if I let a rogue such as you flatter her."  His tone was jovial but there was an undertone of possession.  Bond smiled, giving nothing away.     
  
"Champagne, James.  Dinner will be called in about an hour.  Forgive me, I must make the rounds of my guests."   
  
"Fucking cock!"   
  
James turned at the quiet curse and came face to face with a young man dressed in a dark grey suit.  "Are you talking to me?"    
  
The boy shook his head and toasted the retreating host.  "My cocksucker of a father."   
  
James chuckled.  He was clearly a little drunk and had not yet outgrown his teenage angst.  "And does he?  Suck cocks?"   
  
Dark hair fell into deep brown eyes, pushed away I patiently. He snorted derisively.  "God no.  Hates the idea."     
  
James raised a questioning eyebrow "You’ve discussed it?"   
  
The boy emptied his glass and snatched another from the tray.  "Of course.  He's fine with it really, just likes to distance himself from it, you know?  Vivienne gets a bit catty about it.  Gets on his case.  I'm Germain. Gem."   
  
James sat up so abruptly he startled the others in the room.  "Fuck! Mon petit bijou!"   
  
"What?"    
  
"Fuck!  I think I know... Fuck.  Get me a fucking laptop!"


	14. Chapter 14

He sat, elbows on knees, hands clenched around a rocks glass containing an aged single malt staring at the battered body in the cold damp floor. Slowly leaning back into his chair, he crossed one leg over the other and settled in. “You know I found it very intriguing when the information gathered pointed towards you as Bond’s current lover.”

“Lover… Is that what I am…” Was the vague thought that floated halfway through Q’s drifting consciousness. A hysterical giggle that outwardly came out as a weak faint whimper surfaced as he realised he was about to become a statistic in a long line of Bond’s deceased lovers and conquests.

“I was honestly tariffs taken aback at the resemblance to my Germain. Same build. Same colouring. Same youthful features.” Sitting his glass down on the nearby table. “I didn't realise that Bond had a type. Maybe it is just when he sets his eye on young men, not women,” he talked on. The words didn't even register with Q who had drifted into unconsciousness again.

“Bring the camera back over here. I think it's time for another gift. We wouldn't want to disappoint. Wake him.”

  
Bond stared at an article and obituary about a young man who had committed suicide but was envisioning the pale lithe form of the young man pinned beneath him writhing on dark sheets. His hands grasp his thin waist as he pounded into him, pulling begging moans from him for “More!...”

Bond turned the laptop around towards Mallory and Tanner. “Here. The man in the video. The boy’s father. He was the target. But this, with Q… This is personal.”

Mallory read, face grim. Tanner was already typing details into his tablet, directing analysts to the new Intel. Within minutes new files were popping up on the laptop giving mission details, locations, reports…

“He was a sweet kid.” Bond spoke into the beeping, hissing, quiet room, to another young man who didn't hear. “I should have realised perhaps that his feelings ran deeper than a casual fling. Maybe I did, and took advantage of it. I was there to do a job, and my planned route into the target, the wife, had left him unexpectedly. So I seduced his son…”

No movement from the bed. No recognition of his confession. Just detested hospital noise that grated on James’ nerves.

“Courted, is maybe a better word. I made sure his father knew of my interest and what I could do for his business. He was a way in, nothing else.”

 


	15. Chapter 15

James scraped the chair back and began to pace.  “I understand it now.  That thought you would do anything to avenge a loved one. I’m sorry. Fuck, Q, I am so sorry. It should never have been you, but maybe you’re the only one who would make me realise I destroyed something more precious than his damned organisation.  Mon petit bijou…”

A week since the party and Gem sat self-consciously on a rattan lounger by James’ floodlit pool.  He wasn't there for ‘dinner’, no matter what the invitation read, and the anticipation of finally moving past flirting had him nervously excited.

James grinned and tugged on the young man's shirt. “Can't swim in your clothes.”

“I didn’t bring bathers”. Gem flushed.

“Skinny dipping it is then.”  James slid his swim shorts down his muscular thighs,kicking them free.  Gem licked his lips, eyes fixed on Bond’s cock until the older man cupped his jaw and raised his head.  “All in good time, mon petit bijou.  No need to rush.”  With one smooth stride James arced into the water, diving below the surface and powering away with graceful strokes.

Bond faced Mallory across Tanner’s desk.  Everything was upside down and back to front.  The investigating team had migrated into Mallory’s office, forcing their superior out of his own haven and into the outer office.  Moneypenny typed at her desk and pretended to ignore her boss, and the agent whose conversation was excessively civil.

“Absolutely out of the question, Bond.  I need you here.”  Mallory sipped from his coffee mug and winced  as the lukewarm bitter liquid assaulted his tongue.  The Scotch was long since gone.  Perhaps he ought to send someone out to buy more if he had to tolerate a caged 007 for much longer.  “There are two teams out in the field dedicated to the search already, which is unprecedented in the current climate.  What I need, is a new Quartermaster.”   


Bond actually growled and dug his fingers into the fabric covered arms of Tanner’s desk chair.  Mallory had at least insisted his leather office chair be relocated with him.  “Q is Quartermaster until it is proved he is unable to carry on.”

“For god’s sake man, we don’t even know that he’s alive!  There are agents out in the field who rely on Q branch to operate, with or without him at the helm.  You know as well as I do, that the evidence we have to date proves that he will be in no physical state to work for some time!”

Mallory was saved from the threatened explosive outburst by Bonds’ mobile trilling in his pocket.  He breathed a sigh of relief as the agent stormed out of the office already yelling into his phone.  

“Where the fuck have you been?”

“Lovely to hear from you too, James”  Alec’s rich deep chuckle did nothing to improve James’ rage.  “Would you like the tourist highlights or the explosive nightlife report?”

“Shut the fuck up, Alec, and listen.  Don’t come back here under any circumstances.  We have a problem and I need you to go offline for a little while.  It’s Q…”

“Just be thankful no one has put the pieces together yet Alec.  They have no clue you're involved with him also.” Bond growled into the phone. 

“I swear on everything holy James.  If Q…” which was followed by a loud string of expletives in Russian. 

“I'll feed you all the Intel I can.  Just be ready when it's time to move.”  Bond disconnected the call. 

 


	16. Chapter 16

When Bond entered M’s outer office he was assaulted by Mallory immediate ranting at him.  He had just finished reading the mission report.  “Because once again you couldn't follow mission specs or keep your cock in your pants, my Quartermaster has been compromised and will more than not be retrievable.”

“He is not compromised!” Bond growled at him, fists clenched, immediately in Mallory's face.  He couldn't have them giving up on Q.  “We have 72 hours yet!”

Tanner stepped up quickly trying to diffuse the exploding tension between the two men. “Sir… Bond… R has made some progress with the Smart Blood.”  

Bond’s attention immediately turned to R ignoring whatever Mallory was ranting at him about.  “Please tell me you have a location!”

“No. We haven't managed to trigger that part of the process yet.  You have to remember this was his initial prototype, not he finished working system, not refined.” R sighed.  She repeated those same words over and over again for the last 48 hours.  “I have managed to reboot the part that will monitor his physical vital signs though.  We need to have someone from medical give us an assessment.”

 

Q thought he was dying.  Begged for it.  But even if he wished it was so, he had learned that his captor didn't want him dead yet.  A tremor started in his core and it spread to his limbs, until he was jerking and thrashing on the damp floor, opening previous wounds and pissing what little water they had allowed him onto the concrete.  He lay on the freezing floor in his own blood and filth and floated somewhere, keeping a death grip on his sanity barely.   

"I could forgive your James many things.  He taught me that monetary wealth is not the only way to be be rich.  Showed me that my son was a valuable asset."  Q felt the man crouch near his head.  The taser, or cattle prod - Q no longer cared to name their instruments of torture - delivered a fresh jolt, dragging an almost soundless scream from his raw throat.  "A tool to be used against me.  I think you understand how my Germain felt when he discovered the man he gave his heart to cared nothing for him.  Bruised..."  A hard kick to Q's abdomen.  "Battered..."  Something hard struck his shattered leg.  "And raw!"  Sharp scratches over the fresh wound on his chest where they had sliced away more skin.  "I am sorry that you had to be the lesson, showing him the error of his ways."

 


	17. Chapter 17

"James...?"  A tousled dark head raised from the pillow, the wavering query yanking James from his contemplative stance at the window.  He smoothed the frown from his features and crawled back onto the bed, pulling the young man against his chest and kissing his hair.

"Alright, mon petit bijou?  You did so well for me."  Discovering the boy's inexperience had been a blow.  He might as well have been a bloody virgin for the lack of skill and knowledge he demonstrated, but at least he was enthusiastic and keen to please.  Fucking him for the first time had been slow, gentle, and largely unsatisfying for James, but a liberal smattering of endearments and a good imagination ensured he had at least been able to reach orgasm.

"Sore" the boy giggled, snuggling against James side.  "My butt feels stretched out of shape."

James hid his eyeroll and kissed him.  "Maybe a little.  You'll be fine.  We'll wait a few days before trying again."

"You're invited to dinner tomorrow.  Father has business to discuss with you."  

That was the best news James had received in weeks.  Finally, this flirtation was paying off and he could make some progress.  He pulled the lithe young man on top of him and kissed him deeply.  "Looking forward to it already."  


Q’s last thread of sanity was close to a break point as his captor stood over him talking to the camera once more, another video message for Bond.   Had MI6 searched for him?  Had Bond bothered to either?   His ability to think was suddenly ripped from him when the taser was pressed against the bare skin of his shoulder.  His body spawned, beyond his control, even with his injuries.  

He pleaded for it to end.  Said his goodbyes to James and Alec.  Wished that those who believed in an afterlife were right and he would be given and opportunity at another time where he would fine them once more. But none of those thoughts ever came out in spoken words.  He was broken beyond anything other than a faint harsh whimper.

 


	18. Chapter 18

Bond stood close to Moneypenny’s desk and slipped his silently open mobile into her view on the desktop. “Send everything we have to this mobile number.”

“Bond? James?”

He didn't even turn in her direction but continued watching Dr. O'Reilly from medical study the Smart Blood data they were monitoring from Q. “Just do it, Moneypenny.”

R was replaying the latest video they had received from Q’s captor. “Here,” O’Reilly pointed at the monitoring then the Smart Blood data. “This is where he is tasered. His vitals sky rocket out of control. Otherwise they are low, dangerously low. In my opinion, we’re close to running out of time. We need to find him sooner than later.”

Everything was in place. Bond checked the triggers for the charges one last time and carefully closed and locked the door of the villa that had been his home for the last five months. What little he needed was already packed in the boot of the non-descript Ford parked in a multi-storey car park a few miles away. Regretfully, the beautiful Jaguar would also be sacrificed before the evening’s end. Setting the time for 4 hours he walked away without any regrets and headed for his business partner’s home.

Gem met him at the door with a kiss, whispering excitedly in his ear. “I’m all packed. Passport ready. I can’t wait to see London.”

“Of course, love. I’ll move it to the car later. Now, business first, and then dinner?” Gem nodded and headed for the back of the house leaving James to make his own way to the study where his father waited.

“You’re sure your contact can be trusted, James? I am trusting you with a fortune here. My backers will not be happy if I squander their money.”

Bond sipped from his glass of Scotch. “Trust him with my life” he said smoothly. He pushed the laptop towards the other man. “My codes are already entered, as you can see. Once you have input yours, my contact will complete the transaction.”

A quick smile and the bald man rose. “My codes are in the safe. Please, help yourself to more whiskey while I fetch them.”

Bond sprang into action the moment the doors closed, connecting a small device to the laptop and connecting it to a remote server. The download commenced, ticking unbearably slowly across the screen. Bond fiddled with the car key in his pocket impatiently. The door opened just as it reached 100%. Bond hammered his fist on the keyboard and ran for the window.

The noise reverberated behind him and James winced, turning back to face his doom. Moneypenny glared at him, and he was sure the door still vibrated from the force of her slam. “Mallory is about to declare Q compromised and write him off. You were an idiot, but you're going to loose Q if you can't get your shite together. Alec is going to come unglued on you. And your careless ego on mission is coming back to bite you in the arse. So what are you going to do about it?”

“Did you send the data to the number I gave you?” James asked calmly, leaning against the radiator in the empty office.

“Yes, but…”

“Then it’s in hand. All we can do is wait, and keep combing through the intel relevant to the mission.”

“Wait?! For god’s sake how can you be so calm? The James I know would be out there himself…”

“Calm? You think I’m calm?! I’m still here because I’m the only one who knows anything about this target. And the only one who has someone on the outside who can help us.”

Moneypenny sighed and crossed her arms. “Alec. I might have known. Ok. What can I do?”

“Have a medevac team on standby, even if Mallory vetoes it. As soon as we know where Q is, I’m going for him, but I’ll need medical backup.”

“Consider it done.” She crossed the room, leaned in and kissed his cheek. “We’ll get him back, James.”

 


	19. Chapter 19

Bond mobile buzzed just as pulled out of the MI6 garage, 5 hours after his initial contact with Alec.  “Please tell me you have something Alec”

“Not the one fact the we desperately need James.” Alec’s voice was hard, having lost all of the snarky joking that was the norm with James.  

“He wasn't very discreet in certain mafia related areas across the continent in his inquiries about you and your dalliances.  And it's seems everyone has been more than happy to give him any tiny bit of Intel they had about you.”  

“Fuck…” James fist pounded into the steering wheel causing the car to jerk. 

“I called in a few favours that I would have rather it used. Not for used for your idiocy James, but for Q, I'd burn all of them.” Alec was on the verge of screaming at him.  “But that being said, no one had any clue as to where he was hold up now.”

James heard a door open on the other end of the line, the distinct sound of the slide being racked in an automatic. “Which leads me to believe,” Alec continued, “he couldn't have gone far with the time frame taken into consideration.  He has to be still in London.”

Another call pulsed on James mobile.  “Moneypenny’s calling. I’ll get right back.”

“James…” Alec started but Bond quickly dropped the call with him.

A hand set a steaming cup on the locker beside the bed.  It was testament to how exhausted Bond was that he wasn't immediately on alert.  "Tea.  A sandwich is on it's way." The dark haired nurse had been the most frequent visitor to Q's room in the last few days.  She always made a point of enquiring after Bond too.  Did he need anything?  Could she do anything to make him more comfortable?  While other medics frowned and growled at him to get out of the way, she moved silently around Q's bed making her observations in a soft Yorkshire accent.  He was pathetically grateful.

"Thank you.  Tea will be fine.  No sandwich."  His voice was rough with sleep and he realised he must have dropped off.  He checked his mobile but there were no messages.

The nurse tutted.  "I'll bring it anyway.  I've persuaded more stubborn men than you to eat."  He couldn't help giving a weak smile as she left.

"She's after your job, you little shite.  You're the only one allowed to force food on us exhausted agents."  James yawned and stretched, rising to wander to the window.  It was still dark outside.  His reflection stared back at him, looking haggard and unshaven.

"When Moneypenny called to say the Smart Blood was giving location readings, I really thought we had you.  Weak, and vague, but we had the vicinity...  Anyway, I did a 180 and headed back towards Vauxhall, even though everything in my head screamed it had to be fake.  He wouldn't keep you so close to Six.  Fucking bastard!"

"Mallory learned that Alec had gone dark about the same time.  I heard the ranting was enough to blister paint on the walls, but nothing ties him back to me.  To us.  Moneypenny made sure, I hope."

The steady beat of a machine stuttered.  James was by the bedside in an instant, searching Q's battered face for signs of waking, while the nurse from earlier efficiently identified the issue.  "His temperature is raised and he's struggling with some fluid in his lungs.  Doctor already prescribed an antibiotic IV so we'll set that up now.  It happens with coma patients often.  Try not to worry."

  
  



	20. Chapter 20

“That can't be bloody possible!” Bond snarled.  “Shoreditch.  South Shoreditch.  20 fucking minutes away!”

“We managed to boost the Smart Blood signal enough that we’ve pinpointed a general location for him.”  R began babble about what she and the Q Branch techs had managed to do. 

“A general location!  That's all. Fucking ridiculous!  Q followed me to the exact spot where I was standing in Austria with that nano whatever it is.”   Bond looked down at the floor, running a hand through his hair, trying to calm himself and not unleash in frustration on those he knew were doing everything they could to fine Q.  

“His Smart Blood…” R began. 

“I know, I know.  Was only a prototype, so you’ve said.”  Bond huffed grabbing at the files R was thrusting at him.  

“There seems to be an area of older vacated 5-6 story building.” Tanner began, pointing at a map on the closest monitor.  “They are scheduled to be demolished in two weeks and replaced by new structures of housing and businesses. We’ve pinpointed the signal to area these three buildings.”

“I need kit and the exact location.” Bond was ready to head out. R was already calling Q Branch to have a tech bring kit up for Bond. 

“Location already sent to your mobile.”  Moneypenny gave him a look trying to tell him that she had given the Intel to Alec also.  “I’ve notified medical to be in the ready also, Sir.” in Mallory’s direction. 

“Bond, you know we’ve reached the deadline and I should be declaring the Quartermaster compromised.”  Mallory began. 

“He is not compromised.” Bond spat out. “Q is as loyal as they come and you know it.  He’d never break. Besides you know this isn't about that at all.  It's about me.”  A tech from Q Branch popped in the outer office door looking for R.  With a silent nod, she pointed him in Bond’s direction.  

“Have medical evac team waiting ready as soon as I find him.”  Bond ordered, expecting it to be obeyed. He headed out of Mallory’s office, before anyone could stop him, towards Shoreditch praying that they’d gotten the signal boost in time.  

Bond’s mobile buzzed with an incoming call from Alec as he was getting into his car again. “Moneypenny sent me the coordinates.  Too far away.  Can’t get there in time.”

“I'm on my way.”

“You’d best bring back our boy and bring him home, James.”

“I’ll find him Alec.”

 


	21. Chapter 21

Q's captor growled in frustration.  The boy spent more time unconscious now, was difficult to wake.  Even his most creative torments barely raised a whimper, though his body still succumbed to the involuntary reactions from the taser and the pressure on his raw skin.  He smelled rank, piss and sweat mingling with the dust from the floor and crusting over the seeping wounds.  He crouched by the young man's head.  

"I am rapidly losing a use for you.  My intel led me to believe Bond cared for you, but the evidence would suggest otherwise.  Silence.  Absolute silence."

Q gave no visible response.  All hope of James or Alec finding him in time had long since died.  He wouldn't give the man the satisfaction of fighting death any longer.  With a drawn out sigh he sank into darkness for the final time...

Bond identified the building he wanted easily.  Fresh cigarette butts littered the steps that led up to a rear door.  Too risky to enter the same way.  He crept along the side of the building to the metal fire escape and stealthily made it up to the third floor. The door was rusted and it only took a couple of minutes for Bond to pry it away from the rotting door frame and slink inside.

The office he entered was empty, the door open.  Utilising the shadows he exited into the corridor and listened.  There was a floor above, three below.  Common sense dictated checking the upper floor first, but something had him turning away from the upward flight and descending cautiously.  Voices... no.. a single voice, monotonous droning.  A radio program playing somewhere to his left.  

The first body dropped before the occupants of the office realised he was there, but the second man exchanged fire, falling when Bond's fourth shot took him in the forehead.  Stealth was pointless from there on in.  Three more bodies littered the floor before Bond's forearm closed around the throat of a fourth man, Walther pressed up against his kidney.

"You have something of mine.  Where is he?"

“Mr. Bond.  Did I finally get your attention?”

“No more of your games.  You have something of mine.  Where is he?” Bond snarled in the man’s each pressing the Walther deeper into his side.

“Such impatient for a man who took his time breaking my son.”

“Where is he?” Bond demanded again, Walther moving from the man’s side to being pressed against his temple, barrel hot from usage.

“Why should I tell you?!  You showed little consideration for Germain.  Discarded him as if he was nothing more than a means to an end taking his soul with you.” Q’s captor normally calm voice was now disappearing since the source of his maddening anger was not within his grasp. 

“I am afraid you are a little too late for the boy in the other room, or what is left of him.  So much like my Germain.  I didn’t realise you had a notion and leaning towards any type  of young man to begin with.”  Bond let the man ramble and rant a few seconds longer now knowing that Q was in the other room.

“As I said, you have something of mine and I am taking him back. Now!”  Bond shoved the man away from him. AND before Q’s captor could draw a weapon and fire, Bond shot him between the eyes, like the other bodies he would leave behind for the retrieval to clean up.  What mattered now was Q. 

"I thought you were dead.  Was sure of it."  Bond's voice was barely a murmur, his hand resting on Q's wrist below the IV that snaked out of his forearm.  "I've seen horrific injuries in the field, but that was... sick and twisted.  There wasn't an inch of skin I could put my hands on to lift you, but when the medical team rushed in for a long minute I couldn't stand to let anyone touch you."  

Bond brushed his other hand against moist eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose.  No apology would ever suffice.  All he could do was be here when Q woke.  If he woke...


	22. Chapter 22

It wasn't Q.  This misshapen tangle of blackened skin and awkwardly positioned limbs could not be his lover.  Bond crouched reaching out to smooth the matted dark curls away from the bruised, swollen face.  One eye was swollen shut, the other fixed open and staring.  Q's eye.  Bond made a sound deep in his throat, hands passing uselessly over Q's body, not knowing what to check first.  Breathing... barely, shallow and strained.  

"007?  Bond?"  R's voice on his earwig.  "Is the building clear?  Recovery team on standby waiting for confirmation.  Also, communication from 006 incoming.  Will you receive?"

Bond shook his head fiercely.  He needed to focus.  Needed to get Q medical treatment.  "Clear.  And negative.  Tell Alec I've got him.  I'll talk to him once Q is stabilised." Alec could rant at him later.

"Q?  It's James.  Hold on for me.  Help is coming."  He continued to babble soothing nonsense until four medics entered the room.  One pulled at Bond's shoulder, trying to move him out of the way, only to find himself flat on his back with the agent on top of him, Walther pressed under his chin.

"007! Bond!  Stand down!  We need access to the Quartermaster."

Bond slowly sat back on his heels, gun dropped to his side on the floor.  Hugging his knees he watched the team move in and begin to treat Q.

He watched the medics work on Q for what seemed like an eternity, mobile buzzing in his pocket repeatedly.  He couldn't speak to Alec right now.  He couldn't speak to anyone.  All he could do was stare at Q lying in the floor, broken, knowing it was all because of his actions.  

One medic struggled to insert an IV into Q’s collapsing veins due to dehydration.  Another intubated him as he struggled, breath shallow, raspy, erratic.  The other two checked his injuries in contact with Medical back at MI6 to prepare for the Quartermaster’s arrival.  

He vaguely heard them talking about how to transport Q without causing further damage.  From somewhere a gurney appeared.  Tanner knelt in front of him, into his line of sight blocking his view of Q.  Bond’s flinched, reacting, arm reaching out shoving Tanner out of the way so he could see Q.  He couldn't let him out of his sight, not now, not again.  

“Bond.  Bond.” Tanner tried to get his attention as he struggles back to his feet, rubbing his shoulder.  “They’re getting ready to move him.  Try to get him back to MI6.   I need to know what happened here.”

“No!  Not now.”  Bond suddenly jumped to his feet, moving towards where the Medics were slowly, ever so gently, moving Q onto the gurney. “I need to go with him.”  Bond watched.  No movement.  No reaction. No sounds from Q, even when the Medics moved him.  Unresponsive.  

“Collateral damage and mark terminates in the retrieval of the Quartermaster.” Bond snapped at Tanner, over the constant chatter of the medics, who were quickly moving Q out of the room on a gurney.  Bond intended to go with them.  He would not leave Q now.   

 


	23. Chapter 23

The door clicked open but Bond, expecting the nurse, didn't even look up.   
  
"What the bloody fuck, James?"  James startled at the Familiar voice, angry and controlled.  The white hot calm before Alec normally unleashed his torrent of red rage.  He stepped out of the shadowy doorway and into the dim pool of light cast by the night lights in Medical.   
  
"Alec.  I didn't expect you back until later."  James didn't stand.  The expression on Alec's face said he wouldn't remain on his feet for long if he did.     
  
"Well I said 'fuck it all' and got here as soon as I could."  Seeing the dark expression across James' face.  "I finished the bloody mission.  If the techs have to wait a little while for their data, then tough!  I need to be here.  I need details, James!"   
  
"Not here." James turned his back on Alec, never a wise move.     
  
Alec hauled him around, chair and all, snarling in James' face.  "How bad is it?  Tell me!"

Bond stood ushering Alec backwards out of the room before he could get a good look at the younger man, didn’t want their arguing to disturb him.  What was he thinking, Bond almost chuckled.  Q was in a coma and there was no fucking way their fighting would even remotely register with him.  But on the other hand, maybe there voices would pull him back from the darkness.

“You better have some bloody answers for me, James. “  James could see the physical tension reaching a breaking point in Alec.  “No one would bloody tell me a thing.  I’d rather hear it all from you or do I need to interrogate the staff nurse to get some answers.” which Alec was not beyond doing and not caring if he had to answer for it later.

Bond couldn’t even look at him.  He stared off at a spot on the wall behind Alec.  “It’s bad.  He’s in a coma.” James sighed.  “He’s been in surgery twice already and there is still a lot of damage they haven’t even dealt with yet.”

Alec grabbed his arm making him look him in the eyes.  James didn’t even branch himself waiting for the punch in the face he so deserved.  “Will he wake?  What are they saying James?” Alec voice was hard, cold, an anger laced snarl.

“I don’t know, Alec.  I don’t know.”

“Not good enough!  I need to see him.” Alec shoved him aside with a hard push.  James let him, as Alec strode back into Q’s room.  He would deal with James later.  Q was his priority at the moment.   
  
Alec stood over Q, seeing the damage inflicted on his young lover for the first time.  If he hadn't known it was Q under the layers of bandages, and swollen features he would not have recognised him.  James followed him silently into the room and replaced his chair, sitting and waiting for the inevitable questions.

"He's not breathing for himself.  And the IV?"  Alec's hand hovered over Q's brow afraid to touch him.  "And fuck there's fresh blood on these bandages!"

"Broken ribs, and they removed his spleen and a kidney.  Ruptured.  Small, but the internal bleeding wouldn't stop.  The IV is an antibiotic to fight an infection from god knows where."  Bond's dull tone did nothing to reassure Alec, who had finally noticed Q's bandaged hands.

“What do I need to know about what's under there?  Fuck James, they targeted his hands.  They’re his bloody work, and work is his life!”

“He’s still Quartermaster.  I won't let Mallory appoint until Q himself tells him he’s done.  Other people manage disabilities...”  

“Disabilities?! Bloody hell!  If he isn't able to remain here…”  Alec turned on James, advancing on him once more.  James flinched when Alec’s fingers grabbed the front of his shirt.  “Do you even comprehend what your arrogance has done?  Are you that bloody… Fuck, you don't have a clue!  I hope to god this is shock, James, because if you are this bloody naive…”  

Alec stalked away once more.  “Go away for a while James.  Out of my sight.  I’m not sure how much longer I can keep my anger in check.”

 


	24. Chapter 24

On the third day after Alec’s return, they removed the IV antibiotics and spent more of the day slowing weaning Q off the ventilator.  It was a slow process, his blood oxygen levels remained at the low end of acceptable but they did not want his systems to become dependent on the ventilator, which in itself would cause major issues in the future. Moneypenny, R and Tanner checked in frequently on Q, only to hear that there had been no change.

Five days had passed since Alec’s return.  Either Bond or Alec were at Q’s beside the entire time.   More than once both had to be told to quit trying to interrogate and intimidate the medical staff.  More than once angered words between the two of them turned into altercations in which either Tanner or Mallory had to be called along with security.  Both were close to being suspended and ejected from MI6 for an extended period of time.

By the sixth day Bond and Trevelyan had calmed enough that they could tolerate being in the same room with each other without throwing punches, each took up residence sitting on either side of Q’s bed, waiting and watching.  O’Reilly had called for all for everyone to gather the next day to discuss Q’s prognosis and future treatment. 

On the evening of the sixth day, there was a stutter in the constant low beeping of the monitors attached to Q.  Alec jumped immediately giving Bond a shake, who had dozed off in his chair, before running to grab the Staff Nurse for the evening.

The nurse tried to usher them out but neither man would leave, standing tensely in the corner of Q’s room.  She made her observations silently, noting them on a scrap of paper.  When she shone the light in Q’s eyes there was a quiet whimper.

Q had been… somewhere…  He recalled being cold and naked, and intense pain.  Remembering sent a surge of panic through him.  He had to escape, had to get away from…  What?  The details floated away, but the pain stayed, dull at first but rising in intensity.  He couldn’t pinpoint where it came from.  It seemed everywhere at once and it became harder to catch his breath…

“Easy sweetheart.”  Unfamiliar female voice.  Kindly.  Not yelling or cursing at him…  Yes, he recalled cursing, and his own tears as he tried to understand what was happening to him.  “You’re a bit bashed up love.  Don’t try to move just yet.  I’m Sal, one of the nurses and I’m going to sort out some pain relief for you.”

Q tried to say please, but simply moving his mouth was agony.  His lips and tongue felt dry as sandpaper and equally as rough.  The croaking sound that came out was nothing like his normal voice.  Cool fingertips eased his eye open and shone the bright light again.  He wore glasses.  Where were his glasses?  The blurred vision didn’t help. 

“Safe…?”  it sounded like ‘ss yef’ and only Alec realised what he was trying to ask.

He stepped forward, earning a tut from the nurse.  “Yes.  You’re safe, Q.  Back in Medical.”

That voice he knew.  Alec.  But Alec wasn’t here.  He was… fuck…  he couldn’t think.  He was in Medical with Alec?  No, the pain was all too real, all his own.  Darkness was nibbling at the edges of his thoughts, making them ragged.  Another voice he remembered well said “Sleep, Q.  We’re right here.”

 


	25. Chapter 25

Q drifted into darkness and stayed there for the next 10 hours. Even through a orthopaedic surgeon and a neurologist examining his injuries in depth. Eventually he slowly tried to push to the surface out of the darkness again, slowly, barely reaching it.

Voices from somewhere close by drifted to him in bits and pieces. Murmurs that didn't make sense. The more he tried to push the darkness away, the more pain began to pulse through his body, everywhere.

A voice he thought was Moneypenny said something about surgery and Wednesday. And then a male voice saying something about R staying as long as… Alec’s voice. But Alec was supposed to be in… Mallory needs to give him… Said another voice that he thought was James, but his voice was harsh, tired. Therapy and recovery will be… Alec’s voice again.

He just couldn't reach out of the darkness.

Every movement he tried just brought pain. He tried to turn his head towards where he thought the voices were coming from only to garner a new form of pain that throbbed through his head. A faint whimper of pain surfaced barely audible but enough to grab the attention of two trainee Double O agents.

“Q? Malyutka? Are you with us?” A cool calloused hand rested on his forehead, gently brushing through his hair in the right side of his head.

“He’s awake!” Alec turned to James with a wide grin, the first smile James had seen from his partner in days. Turning back to Q “Can you talk? Shit, are you in pain?”

Q closed his eyes again. It was hard to focus without his glasses, harder still with his bruised eye, even if the swelling was receding. Trying to make sense of Alec’s questions was far more difficult than it should be. But pain, yes, he was in pain. He tried to raise his hand to push his hair out of his face, a reflex motion that was unnecessary, and unsuccessful.

His hands felt heavy, weighed down. “Don’t,” Alec warned. “Not yet. You’re bandaged. It will be a few days before they know how badly damaged they are.”

“Alec!” James hissed in protest at Alec’s frank comment. “We agreed…”

“No! You agreed. You and Moneypenny, Tanner and Mallory - you all agreed that keeping it from him would be for the best. How? Tell me how? Are they going to fix themselves?” Alec moved away from Q’s view and lowered his voice to an angry whisper. “This is his reality now James. He’s going to have to come to terms with it sooner rather than later if he wants to get well and return to work. That’s what you’re expecting isn’t it? That he’ll be back as Quartermaster, full strength, no issues?”

James stepped out of Alec’s range. “Of course there’ll be issues, but with therapy he can do it. I’ll help him. Physio, meds, talking… whatever he needs…”

“How about a full complement of fingers, James? Or a leg that won’t pain him after a couple of hours on his feet? We don’t even know for sure that there’s no brain damage. If you think he’s going to bounce back from this and still be our Q, then you are fooling yourself.”

They were interrupted by the arrival of O’Reilly and Sal, the nurse. “I understand our patient is conscious?” The doctor leaned over Q and smiled. “Given us a scare or two, young man. We’ll let you pull around for a few hours more, then we need to have a chat.

 


	26. Chapter 26

Q drifted in and out of consciousness for the next few hours gradually taking in a little more of his surroundings as time passe and realising more pain and injuries. He remained silent, lying as still as possible.

James sat on one side of him, Alec on the other in quiet conversation, until one would piss off the other. Then they would get into each other's personal space, off in a corner of the room, and snarl at each other until Q would whimper and they were immediately back at his side fussing.

Q’s eyes finally fluttered part of the way open again. “Q? Are you back with us again?” Alec began

“What do you need Q?” James added. Q tried search nearby for the faces that went with the voices but everything was blurred without his glasses and his one eye still swollen.

“Glasses?” He tried to say but it came out more as a grabbed ‘lass…”

“Glasses? I don't think..” Alec started, who seemed to be so much better at deciphering than James, just as O’Reilly entered the room.

“Gentleman. I see my patient seems to be with us again. If you would step out please, I would like to take a look at our Quartermaster and have a conversation.”

"I'm staying" Alec insisted.

"So am I. I haven't sat by his bedside all this time to be turned away now." James stood at the foot of Q's bed and looked the doctor square in the eyes. He was met with steel, not remotely softened by the doctor's bland smile.

"Agents, may I remind you that quarterly medicals are due for you both? If you wish to continue your careers in the field I would suggest you exit promptly and wait outside. Right now Q is my patient, not your inamorato, not your Quartermaster."

The nurse stood at the door smiling sympathetically at the irritated pair. "Coffee this way, gents." Reluctantly they left, and the door closed softly behind them.

Q felt the electric whirr of the bed rising, tilting him gently into a slightly more upright position. "Alright?" O'Reilly pulled up a chair and fussed around making himself comfortable. It wasn't a nervous habit, simply the doctor's way of settling into a conversation. "How are you feeling? Pain under control? I imagine you don't know which way is up and which is down, hitting you from all sides, mm?"

Q managed a brief nod. "Glasses?" he mouthed, wishing to see the doctor's face.

"Sorry old chap, bit of an issue with the specs. Afraid they got broken in one of your tussles. Bit of damage to your ear also that would make wearing them pretty uncomfortable I think."

That explained the soreness beneath the irritating hot bandage wrapping his head. He had contacts at his flat, but his swollen eye probably ruled those out too. Resigning himself to being virtually blind he closed his eyes. "Continue. All of it" he rasped.

 


	27. Chapter 27

James and Alec both reluctantly accepted coffee from the Nurses break room. Coffee meant sitting. Coffee meant waiting. Coffee meant she knew O’Reilly would be in with Q for an extended period and they were banished from the room.

James sat quietly in the outer waiting area, cup clenched in both hands. Elbows on his knees, he stared quietly at the floor. Alec’s coffee took up residence on a table, untouched, while he passed the floor, glancing at his watch every 5 minutes. “He’s been in there forever.” Alec huffed as his paces past James.

“It's only been 15 minutes.” James sighed.

“Too long. He shouldn't be alone.” Alec snapped at him. 45 minutes later after Alex has worn a rut in the floor, rearranged the sitting area furniture by shoving it around in anger, and had frightened two of the nursing staff, O’Reilly finally exited the Quartermaster’s room.

“You can go back in now Gentleman. Don't be overly enthusiastic or loud. He’s in pain and not faring too well at the moment.” O’Reilly turned back around as he started to leave. “We’ve scheduled his surgeries with the orthopedic surgeon two days from now. Don't want his hands to begin to heal in the condition they’re in now.”

"Q? Ok?" Alec hovered worriedly by his head. James took up his position on Q's right in the hard plastic chair. "O'Reilly mentioned surgery. On your hands?"

Q swallowed hard. The doctor had helped him sip iced water from a straw which had moistened his throat, but the conversation with the doctor had left a lump that he didn't seem able to clear, no matter how much he tried to swallow it down. As O'Reilly had spoken of his missing fingers, horrific memories had arisen of being strapped to a chair. A vicious swipe of a sharp tool and his finger was separated from him. His own screams echoed back at him in his head. Three detached completely at the first joint from the knuckle. One infected and in danger of sepsis. His typing days were over, O'Reilly said, unless he could adapt.

"Fine" he croaked. "I'm fine." Keeping his eyes closed hid the lie, he thought.

"Did he discuss the other surgeries? Rebuilding your ear? Correcting the first skin graft on your chest? Fuck, I guess they have to take it slow but there are a whole host of things that need fixing up." Alec tried to make his tone light, but James glowered like a thundercloud from the far side of the bed.

Q sighed. O'Reilly had gone through it all. Operations, both necessary and elective. Physical therapy. Trauma counselling and psych evaluations. Rebuilding the Quartermaster one fucking medical procedure at a time. Nine to twelve months recovery at least. And then... what? He went back to running his department? The thought made him queasy. He couldn't go back until the most important question was answered. would always be looking over his shoulder.

"Why? I don't even know why."

Alec glared at James across Q’s bed. James shook his head back at him and mouthed ‘not now’. Alec halted at him again mouthing ‘he needs to know now. From you.” He pointed a finger at Bond.

“Still here. Talking without me is rude.” He managed to whisper.

James reached out and careful brushed a dark lock back away from Q’s eyes. He did need to know. And definitely before Psyche descended on him. But how could he tell him that all this… these horrific injuries were all because of revenge and his “not thinking” ego.

Alec glared at him again. “James…

“It's all my fault” James just blurted out. “Revenge from an mark. A mission a long time ago.” James stood looking at Q. He wanted to take him in his arms and sooth him, protect him. But he was broken, because of him.

“I went off mission directives. Caused the death of his son. He chose you because we were lovers to hurt me. He didn't even know you were Quartermaster.” James slumped into the chair again.

“I'm so sorry Q.” He whispered, swallowing hard, moisture threatened at the corners of his eyes. “Whatever you need Q. Just ask. Anything.”

"I'll employ the best physios. If we need a better surgeon I'll find one."

Alec's wild promises made Q's fuzzy head spin. He could feel the anger and discontent fizzing between his partners and he couldn't face dealing with it. They were crippled by guilt and trying to make him feel better. They would fix him up, assuage their guilt, and then move on. Leave the cripple to fend for himself...

"Whatever I can do... Fuck, the boy took his own life, his own fucking choice. You should not have suffered like this. He's dead Q. I shot him."

Like it mattered? James' jumbled thoughts left Q wondering who James had shot. And it changed nothing. He was still broken, unable to continue doing the job he loved. O'Reilly had been blunt in his assessment of his injuries, realistic in his prognosis for recovery. He respected the doctor for it, but he was reeling. The job had been everything until Alec, and then James. Take the Quartermaster out of him and what was left? Nothing. He was a broken nothing.

"Please leave." Alec ignored him, continuing to babble about his last mission, the side trip he'd made at James' request, and the outcome. Q tried to block it out, tried to blank James angry interruptions, but it grated on his last nerve. "Stop it! Get out!"

"Q?" James sounded hurt.

Q felt Alec's hand stroking urgently over the bare skin of his forehead beneath the bandage. "We're right here, Q. We'll get through..."

"No!" It wasn't a yell but Q's determination was evident.

James motioned to Alec to step away from the bed. "OK Q. We'll come back later when you're feeling more yourself."

Alec stepped back but glared at James as he motioned him towards the room door. “Rest Q. We’ll be just outside.”

 


	28. Chapter 28

The two had barely made it out of the room and closed the door before they were at each other. Within minutes Tanner appeared. “O’Reilly says you two are pushing the boundaries of your welcome in Medical. You do realise this is a place for people to recover not listen to you two act like toddlers! Final warning from M or you will be banished from the building.”

“He told us to leave Tanner.” Alec started.

“And probably for the best at the moment” Tanner threw back at him. “You two have been hovering for days. He probably needs some time to think by himself. After all he has been through a traumatic time.”

“But he shouldn't be alone,” James countered.

“I'm sure Dr. O’Reilly and his staff are more than capable of taking care of our Quartermaster,” Moneypenny’s voice behind them interrupted as her stilettos clicked down the hallway. “You two go home and get some rest. I’ll sit with Q overnight.”  
  
“Not happening Moneypenny.” Alec challenged.

“Yes happening Trevelyan. M’s orders. You two out until noon tomorrow. Now shoo.” She waved a hand at both of them towards the lifts at the end of the corridor. Neither man moved. “Do I need to call security to escort you from the premises? M was firm in his orders.”

“Come on James,” Alec laid a hand in his partner’s shoulder, reluctantly headed then towards the lifts. “It will give us time to do some research and lay some plans for Q’s rehab.”

Moneypenny shook her head as the two wandered away. “They’ll never learn will they Bill..” O’Reilly appeared at the end of the hallway. “Dr. O’Reilly.” Moneypenny headed off towards her next conquest leaving Tanner standing in the middle of the hallway. “I’ve been appointed the Quartermaster’s overseer for the night by M. I need an update, caught up on his status.”

When Moneypenny entered Q's room half an hour later she found him reclining on his pillows fingering the morphine infusion PCA and staring vacantly at the ceiling.

"Good drugs?" She asked, plonking a rattan bag on the floor by her feet and crossing her slim legs. "You look like shite."

"Don't know." He had avoided pressing the pump ever since he had become lucid enough to understand what it was there for. The pain increased as the drugs receded from his system but it gave him something to focus on. Something to drag himself out of the drugged fog.

"The doctor brought me up to date. You're going to be here a while so I made some enquiries. Pulled a few strings with the nurses and got you some entertainment. Room upgrade with TV, a view and round the clock waitress service."

"No glasses. No point."

"Somebody is grumpy." Moneypenny leaned her elbows on the edge of his bed and scrutinised him. "Look, I know you're facing an horrendous few months, but feeling sorry for yourself isn't going to change things. You're not alone."

Q's lips pressed in a thin line, biting back the acidic retort that his mind threw up. He couldn't vocalise it anyway. "Cow. Hate you."

"Good. That means I'm doing the right thing." He heard rustling and felt a soft thump on the bed. "I brought some light reading. I know how you love the trashy gossip magazines I buy, so I'll read to you, and you can pretend you give a damn about the Royals' love lives, and which celebrity tart left her knickers in a black cab."

He sighed deeply. "Evie..."

"I know. You can thank me later when you drum up the energy to speak." The scent of her perfume tickled his nose as he felt her lips briefly brush his forehead. "Oops! Lipstick."

 


	29. Chapter 29

Over the next few hours Q dozed off and on while Moneypenny babbled at him.  One of the nurses came in and removed his feeding tube telling him if he didn't eat one his own they would be forced to place it back in again.  Nutrition was important to his recovery.  

 

The pain had finally become too much for him and Moneypenny coaxed him into at least using the morphine infusion PCA once to get through the night.  

 

James and Alec had gone back to the flat in silence.  James sat on the sofa in the lounge staring at nothing.  Alec cooked them something to eat in silence sitting a plate in front of James on the low lounge table. Alec sat at the kitchen counter and ate with a multitude of scenarios about how they would handle Q’s treatment and recovery.  

 

Finally he wandered upstairs to shower leaving James still on the sofa.  It wasn't long before he came back downstairs dressed only in a pair of pyjama pants, towel drying his hair.  “We need to talk James.  We need a plan, You and I, before we are allowed back into Q’s room tomorrow,” Alec flopped down in the chair across from James.  “We need to be a unified force or all we are doing is causing more harm and freaking him.   Can't do much good either if we are banished from being near him.”

 

"You blame me."  Alec didn't respond to James' statement immediately so he continued on in the same monotone.  "It's fine. I blame myself, even though it was several years ago. I'd like to think I'm a different man now."  James rolled his stiff shoulders, too long hunched over the medical bed.  "Q did that.  Changed my outlook."   
  
Alec shoved a hand through his hair and sighed.  "I know.  I'm angry.  Hurting.  But recriminations won't help Q get back on his feet."  He wound the towel around his hands, a distraction from wanting to lash out at James.  Violence wouldn't help either, even if it made Alec feel better.  "Do you really think he can do it?  Return to his role as Quartermaster and still be the same?"   
  
James scratched at the thick stubble that covered his chin.  Salt and pepper now, rather than the light brown it was when he and Alec first became friends.  Life had always thrown challenges in their way, but none had hurt this badly.  Even the death of his parents so long ago was just a vaguely painful memory.  Loving Q had changed so much...   
  
"I have to,"  Tears glimmered at the corners of James' eyes "otherwise I may as well have killed him myself."   
  
Alec nodded.  He knew Q only too well.  Coming back from this, less than whole, slower, trauma lurking in the shadows of his mind ready to be triggered at the most in opportune moment...  Q would consider himself too great a risk to the lives of his agents, and if he couldn't be Quartermaster he would not want to be there at all.  Still,  they would form a plan and they would try…

 

When James and Alec arrived at MI6, they were directed by security to immediately to M’s offices.  There was no chatter in the outer office with Moneypenny when they arrived just, “He’s expecting you. Both of you.  Go on in.” Moneypenny was somber. Avoided giving them any indication of what to expect inside those heavy mahogany doors.

James entered first with Alec following who wasted no time in jumping right in.  “What are we being drug up here?  More important places to be.”

“Have a seat 007, 006.  And 006 if you feel there are more important places to be than speaking with the Director of MI6 which employs you, maybe you might want to consider other employment.”  M bluntly pointed out the him.  “And this conversation has to do with what I think you’re referring to as ‘more important places to be.”

Alec gave James a worried look, suddenly hesitant in wanting to know what this meeting was about.  Both their thoughts rushed to the worse.

“It has been brought to my attention that the Quartermaster has requested that he have no visitors, other than medical staff and myself for the time being.  And he has requested an indefinite leave of absence which under the circumstances, of course I granted.  The no visitors includes both of you. 

James stared blankly at M soaking in what he had just said.  Alec immediately jumped up from his chair protesting. “You can’t bloody mean that!  Q would never!” Alec started towards the door.

“I suggest you rethink your actions, 006, and retake your seat. “Mallory ordered him. “Or I will have security throw you out of the building. 

 


	30. Chapter 30

Q leaned back on the gurney and closed his eyes tightly, whimpering quietly when the nurse adjusted his leg onto the pillows to keep it stable.  His pinned leg stretched out in front of them in it's cage, a grotesque visual he still wasn't comfortable looking at. They had tried to sedate him completely to ease the transfer, but he had refused. 

"Are you sure about this Zaquary?"  Q cracked one eye trying to focus, giving the tall suited man with the thinning red hair his best attempt at a harsh glare, this was his only option at the moment.  The facial swelling was beginning to reduce, the bruising turning to dull yellows and greens.  It gave Q a haunted, broken look.  Perhaps appearances weren’t deceiving after all, but only time would tell. Mycroft gave an impatient huff.  "You are still the stubborn child at times.  But, so be it; the arrangements are made.  Mallory is dealing with your two idiot lovers as we speak."

Q blinked hard several times and looked down at the clubbed bandages on his hands.  They lay uselessly in his lap, redressed earlier that morning.  O'Reilly had been pleased with the surgeon's work, commenting particularly on the mobility that should be retained in the remaining stumps where his missing fingers should have been.  "With a bit of ingenuity you'll adapt."  The doctor had said cheerfully.  The issue was, Q was the one with the talent to engineer such things, but without the use of his hands that was impossible.

"Can we just go?  You can tell me what you found out about the boy on the way." his words slurred in pain as they moved him down the corridor. 

They travelled by ambulance, no regular car being able to cater for Q's comfort.  Mycroft sat gingerly on a gurney and tried not to think of all the people who had bled or died on it.  "How do you think it will help?  Bond already told you the boy meant nothing to him.  Will learning exactly how little make all of this any easier to deal with?"  He gestured at Q, glancing over his visible injuries once more.  There were more under the thin t shirt Q wore, but the worst were locked inside his head.

Q shrugged.  "I have to know why" he murmured.  "I need to understand his hatred of James.  Need to absorb it, examine it."

Mycroft doubted there was anything to be gained by pressing him.  That's what the high-salary psychiatrist would be paid for.  They passed through an electronic gate and drove up a short drive to a large stone house.  "Welcome to your new home.  It's much more pleasant than the rehab establishments I normally pay for.  Sherlock is fine, by the way, in case you were wondering."

"I wasn't."  

Q remained steadfastly silent as he was wheeled into the exclusive retreat.  A smiling young woman in pristine white greeted them.  "Mr Holmes.  My name is Fran, and I will be your primary carer while you are with us.  We have a full staff at your disposal.  Round the clock nursing, and assistance with personal needs.  Physiotherapy, counselling, dietician..."

"Fine, whatever"  Q interrupted her with a wave of his gauze covered hand.  "So hell is full of helping hands.  Just put me in a bed and leave me for a while."

 


	31. Chapter 31

James and Alec sat and listened to Mallory lecture them about the Quartermaster’s wishes and how even though the three of them appeared to be very close, that was a lecture for another time, then needed to respect the Quartermaster’s wishes and stay at a distance for the time being. And of course, like two petulant children, as soon as they left Mallory’s office, they began plotting a way to get past security to check on Q in Medical.

After a few hours of putting their highly trained double o skills to use, lurking in back stairwells, hiding in empty offices, closets and storerooms, they managed to find themselves in the darkened outer corridor of the Medical wing of MI6. Late in the evening there was only the staff needed on duty. No technicians, visitor or other staff to be concerned with.

They waited until it was the scheduled time for the evening nursing staff to be at the main desks updating charts before quietly sneaking down the corridors to the room where Q hopefully slept. Alec took a second glance down the corridor to make sure not on approached, as James approached the doorway, before he followed him.

“Alec!” Alec turned as he heard James harshly whisper his name. “He’s gone. He’s not here.”

Alec pushed through the door, all attempts at discretion abandoned, to find James was correct. No sign of any occupant, the bed empty and already stripped.

"Where the fuck is he then?" Alec snarled at James who shook his head. He stormed back into the corridor with James on his heels already shouting for a nurse.

"Agents, is there a reason you are disturbing the peace in my department at this time of night? I believe you were not to return here until noon." O'Reilly gave them his blandest smile from where he leaned against the nurses station cradling a mug of coffee.

"Where is he?" Alec demanded without preamble.

James followed with "Is he worse?"

"Why don't we head into my office, gents? Leave my staff to their tasks." The doctor wandered off assuming they would follow. Once inside he topped his mug from a pot on the desk, nodding to several stained mugs. "Help yourselves. No milk or sugar."

"Don't you ever fucking sleep, doc?" Alec groused, ignoring the invitation.

O'Reilly simply tapped his mug and smiled. "Now then. I assume you're inquiring about our Quartermaster? Or you're very eager for those medicals?"

"Cut the crap. Where has he been moved to?" James was never the most patient but the doctor's attitude after Mallory's lecture had stretched it beyond reason.

"Don't know" the doctor shrugged. "Can't help." He held up a warning hand as Alec prepared to launch at him. "If I could, I would. Despite the pair of you being a menace to my staff, I do believe you have a closer relationship with our Quartermaster than official records would suggest. "

"However he asked to be moved of his own free will in a private telephone conversation. Next I knew an official instruction came from the Director and a toff in a suit arrived to take him away. Introduced himself as his brother but didn't give a name." He drank deeply from his mug giving them a moment to absorb the information.

“Q doesn’t have a brother or family.” Alec stated confidently before turning to James. “Does he?”

“How the bloody hell am I supposed to know, Alec? We never really talked about it.”

“Like I’m supposed to know! You’re a bloody bastard, James!” But they were both beginning to wonder just what did they really know about the young man they were both sharing a bed with besides he was their Quartermaster.

“Gentleman!” O’Reilly jumped into the middle of their bickering. “His transfer was approved by M. The man introduced himself as his brother and there was possibly a slight family resemblance. M seems to know the man. He took another drink from his mug before refilling it again.

“But he shouldn’t have been moved. He wasn’t well enough for that at all.” James was trying his best not to growl at the doctor but his patience was growing thin.

“Can’t say I can argue that point with you, 007. But the matter was completely out of my hands and at a higher level of clearance than I would ever dream of having in this lifetime.” O’Reilly leaned back in his chair watching the two agents in front of him become more frustrated by the moment. “I would suggest you take the matter up with M. He is the one who has had direct dealings with the Quartermaster on the matter and authorized the transfer. “

 


	32. Chapter 32

"You two had better have a bloody good reason for banging on my door in the middle of the night!" Moneypenny didn't bother trying to stop them entering her flat. They followed her to the kitchen where she was already setting out glasses on the table. A bottle of Glenfiddich joined them a moment later. "Well go on! I assume we're going to need it. Wait here while I get dressed."

James silently poured drinks for them all while Alec paced waiting for Moneypenny to return. They had bickered all the way over in the cab over what to do. The only thing they agreed on was that Moneypenny would be the one to know anything about Q beyond his official files.

"So, what the fuck is this about?" Moneypenny folded herself into one of the dining chairs, somehow managing to tuck her feet beneath her. She sipped at her glass and looked from one to the other with concern. At least they were both now sitting instead of prowling like caged tigers.

"Q's gone" Alec growled "And we want to know where?" He downed his glass and poured another twice as deep.

James cuffed him around the head and pushed the closed laptop across the table towards her. "Access his sealed files. We know you have clearance."

Moneypenny frowned. "There's nothing in there of concern to you. And what do you mean, gone?"

"Just do it Eve. A brother, family, something... Who was he before Six? Where did he come from? It might give us a clue of where the fuck he'd go to. Who would help him disappear?" James pleaded. He opened the laptop and again pushed it closer to her.

"No. Not without M's sign off. Sorry boys."

“Don't do this to us Moneypenny! We have to find him.” Alec pleaded with her now edging the laptop a little closer to her.

“What are you two rambling on about?!” Moneypenny shoved the laptop back to the middle of the table. “And what do you mean, gone?"

“His room was empty. He’s gone. O’Reilly said someone who said who claimed to be brother took him. Mallory authorized it!” James shoved the laptop back directly in front of her. “Moneypenny! Please!” James downed his drink and refilled it again.

“Moneypenny, you and Q are friends. Has he ever said anything about family?” Alec pressed her for Intel.

“Of course we're friends. Have coffee and things but it's not as if we ever shared our intimate childhood secrets.” Moneypenny shoved the laptop back once more. “I don't know anything about his bloody family!” Moneypenny stood wandering over to the cupboards grabbing up a bag of crisps.

“Open his files Moneypenny.”

“Bond! No!”

“Moneypenny I have to… We have to find him.” Bond approached her slowly. Taking her by the hand, he slowly walked her back to her seat at the table. “Please Eve.”

“He needs us Moneypenny. Who else can come close to understanding what he has been through…” Alec topped off her glass. “Just login and work for a few minutes and if you happen to take a bathroom break while we are sitting here…”

 


	33. Chapter 33

“Mr. Holmes, are you with us?”  Q wondered who was the unfamiliar female voice was that was waking him, but when he tried to roll over in the bed the pain that surged through him brought everything back to reality.  

He struggled to open his eyes automatically starting to rub them with a hand to remember that he was incapacitated in that way also.  “Mr. Holmes is my father or Mycroft.  Not me.   It’s Q… no… no… Zaquary.” He abruptly changed his mind at the sudden thought that he would probably not be the Quartermaster of MI6 again.  

“Fran?”  A white blob hovered over him close to his bed but without his glasses he struggled to make out who was standing there.

“Yes, it's me.”  She patted him on the arm and went back to checking the monitors he had been hooked back up to after the nursing staff had settled him into his new recovery room.  “Dr. Andrews, who will be your primary physician during your recovery period will be here to see you and go over your injuries and rehabilitation with you at 10:00 am.  Also Dr. Greenwell will be here at 1:00 pm.”

“Greenwell?   Psychiatrist, I'm assuming?”  Q sighed knowing that would be one of the first physicians Mycroft would have retained after their conversation ambulance. 

“Yes that is his area of expertise Mr. Holmes.”

“Zaquary, please,  since it seems I will be here for quite a while.”  Q reiterated.  “And tell Mycroft, because I know he will be lurking around here somewhere soon, that he can just take his Dr. Greenwell and fuck off!” 

 


	34. Chapter 34

There was literally nothing useful in Q's file.  Bond slammed the three A4 sheets down on Mallory's desk in front of his superior, jabbing at the top page that was so heavily redacted it may as well have been printed entirely in thick black lines.  "How the hell is this supposed to help us find him?"

"It isn't.  That is rather the point, 007.  And before you ask, I have no further information to give you.  Dismissed."

James stormed down to Q branch where Alec was being kitted out for a mission.  "I can't believe you're leaving now!  Is that it for you?  Q disappears on us and you just let him?"  

The tech who was adjusting the strapping on Alec's new vest discreetly moved away out of earshot of the angry hissed conversation that was a continuation of several other bouts over the last couple of weeks.  Several had already come to blows, and poor Simon, one of Q's favourites, was now sporting a broken nose courtesy of a punch that had gone astray.

"What do you expect me to do?  You've seen everything Six holds on Q now, and we still have no clues.  Face it James, he doesn't want to be found, and we are employed to do a job."  Alec tore at the velcro straps that held the rigid vest in place.  "I know one thing.  Q would be furious at us if he thought we were slacking just because he went AWOL."

Alec tossed the vest on the nearest table and backed James towards Q's office, slamming and locking the door behind them.  "We don't officially have a relationship James.  Not Q and I, not you and Q, not you and I.  As far as Six is concerned we are colleagues, and while our close friends and Mallory may know better, we are not going to be granted any kind of compassionate leave to go chasing his sorry arse around the world."

"He would want..."

"He doesn't want, James.  Keep repeating that to yourself as you drown your fucking sorrows night after night."  He prodded James in the chest.  "I have better ways of utilising my time and resources out in the field.  And if I take the odd detour now and then to ask around about a former hacker back on the scene, then Six would rather not know officially."

James obviously hadn't considered that Q might return to his former career, if he could ever work at all. "Would he do that?"

"Fuck knows, but it's worth putting out a few feelers.  He always said how much he enjoyed having no responsibility to anyone and no one relying on him.  Perfect job for a man who feels he's no good to anyone now."

"Makes sense" James nodded, "But he was far from fit enough to be working when he left here."

"Well at least I'll feel like I'm doing something useful, not just abusing my liver and turning my demeanor sour as bile."  Alec's face darkened.  He was a drinker, but James could sink as much again when depressed.  "If you want to be of use, stick with the brother.  Somebody, somewhere, knows who his family is, or has an idea who can find out.  Ask around, go to Five... hell, call a bloody detective for all I care, but do something productive James, so he has something to come back to if he changes his mind." 

 


	35. Chapter 35

Q sat at the window staring out at the grounds surrounding his secluded home, a place he had discovered that Mycroft has owned in the family name for quite some time. Mycroft checked on him frequently as his schedule allowed.  The medical staff came all too frequently for his liking also.   Dr. Greenwell came twice a week and they had yet to have an in depth conversation about what had happened to him.  Most of their time was spent in silence or with the doctor trying to coax some commentary out of Q.   It would be a major undertaking for one of Mycroft’s pet psychiatrist to be able to break through his outer armour. After all, he had been taught by the best as to how to avoid psyche at MI6. 

He had rejected Dr. Andrews proposal for reconstructive surgery on his ear.  He would struggle with his contact lens or just being half blind for now.  To cover the damage, he has let his hair grow longer to hide his missing ear.  And to go along with it, he had just let his beard grow also not wanting to be bothered with attempting to shave (which was a difficult task all things considered) or to have one of the nursing staff do it for him.

Today was therapy day.  Kyle, his physical therapist, had just arrived and would soon wheel him down for treatment.   Q dreaded it. It had taken him a long time to just even let Kyle near him, let alone start his therapy.  Initially, every time he would approached him, all he could envision was being held captive, having a violent reaction.  He had to push and convince his mind that medical uniforms were safe.  

He hated every one of Kyle’s visits with an intense passion.  Not only were they painful session, but they were a constant reminder of just how physically he was damaged.  “Fuck!” Q snarled at his therapist trying to pull his left hand away from him.  “I so fucking hate you right now.”

“Yeah I know,” Kyle chuckled.  “But as we have discussed every day since we started this, we can’t let your hands stiffen up.  Have you been doing the exercises that I gave you to do?” giving him that raised eyebrow look already knowing what the answer was going to be.  

“Occasionally…”

“That’s what I thought.  I know they aren’t fun but soon we are going to start some work on that leg of yours also, and things is only going to tougher.”

“Fuck! Bloody bastard.” Q snapped at him again.

“Lots of scar tissue there.  Rough spot.”

Q had lost three fingers on his left hand and one on his right.    Another one on his right one had been too badly mangled and infection had set.  It had been removed eventually also.  

Kyle reached behind him into his large holdall of equipment and pulled out a package, laying it on the table beside Q.  "I brought you something to practise with.  Go on, open it."

Q eyed the wrapped package.  It was fairly slim, flat, with peeling brown paper at the bottom corner.  About the size of a...  Fuck, he knew what it was.  A familiar yellow sticker peeked out of the ripped paper.  His tablet.  Fuck!

"No.  Can't."  He turned his face away and instead focused on his hated mutilated left hand.  How the fuck was he meant to hold a bloody tablet anyway with only his thumb and one other finger?  He flexed it, performing the detested exercises with a new found diligence.  Anything to keep Kyle's attention away from the tablet.

"Very good"  Kyle grinned, "Amazing what a bit of an incentive can do.  Now open the parcel Zaquary, stop stalling."  He pulled a black item from his bag and began unwrapping the plastic.  "Here, this should help.  See the handle on the back here?"  He turned the new case over and held it out for Q to inspect.  "It will allow you to hold the tablet easily with your left hand and still type with your right."

"If this is one of Mycroft's instructions, you can tell him to fuck right off.  I'm not interested."

"No.  It's one of mine."  Kyle said easily, placing a printed list on the table also.  "These are apps I want you to download, developed by me as part of your physical therapy program.  I thought you would prefer the familiarity of your own tech, but I can easily supply you with a new one?  Either way Zaquary, this forms part of your exercise program now.  The apps gather data that will assist me in analysing the dexterity of your fingers and where we need to target our efforts.  Open it!"

 


	36. Chapter 36

First the doorbell rang.  Then there was the loud knocking.  Then the text messaging started.  Then they bloody mobile started to ring... repeatedly.     
  
"What!"   
  
"Open the bloody door Bond before I feel the need to shoot the lock.  And if I am forced to do that, you may be my next target... again." Moneypenny huffed at him in frustration.  Bond didn't even respond to her threats verbally and took his time wandering to the front door of the flat.  Turning off the securities and unlocking the door, he just stood there staring at a Moneypenny laden down with bags from Tesco as she marched in, heading towards the kitchen   
  
"You look like shite."    
  
"Thank you.  I thought I looked rather dashing myself." Bond stood there in nothing but a pair of rumpled jeans.  Hair standing up all over.  And he wasn't sure when the last time he had showered was either.    
  
"God the place smells like alcohol."  Moneypenny chided him, starting to unpack groceries onto the kitchen counter. "Rumor has it you've got a mission coming up in a week.  Time to sober up James."   
  
"That's days away." Bond wandered past her into the kitchen, dropping an empty bottle into the sink and grabbing another cold one out of the refrigerator, which Moneypenny promptly snatched out of his hand.     
  
"Time to sober up, James.  You're not going to find him this way and all you are going to do is get yourself injured or worse killed out in the field if you’re half pissed still."   
  
  



	37. Chapter 37

Alec emptied the last two rounds into the stomach of the Chinese hacker and walked away.  Within a few minutes he was back on the busy streets of Tianjin, heading for his next rendezvous.  A man jostled him twice as he walked.  Alec ignored him.  The street was crowded, being bumped was to be expected, but Alec's smile was not.  Twelve steps further on Alec took a sharp step to the right, forcing his would-be attacker into a shuttered shop doorway.  His large fingers closed around the slight man's throat.

"I hope you are Schwarzer or we have a problem."  Alec patted him down and retrieved a small handgun that he slipped into his jacket pocket.  "Anything else I need to know about?"

"You wallet is in my back pocket."  His contact grinned showing small gapped teeth.  "Take it back and the English tea is your cost.  Shall we?  The rooftop restaurant is good.  Very good."

Alec followed him through the department store at a discreet distance, just another customer heading up to the top floor until they reached the restaurant.  Then he stepped up behind the small man and guided him to a table that satisfied Alec's need to observe the room while they talked.  Delicately scented tea and tiny sweets arrived without any order being given.

"I am Schwarzer" his companion finally confirmed, chewing one of the delicate cakes noisily.  "And you want to know about someone.  Are you looking to employ?"

"Perhaps.  A specialist.  Name of Rachmaninoff."  Alec leaned back and searched the man's face for signs of recognition.  He was good, but Alec was better.  There was a definite flicker of interest.

 


	38. Chapter 38

"Zaquary, you are going to have to speak with with Dr. Greenwell eventually. "   Mycroft fussed at his youngest sibling.  He was growing deeply concerned that his sibling seemed to utterly ignore his emotional state after the ordeal he had been through.   Even their other brother was not near as stubborn as Zaquary was capable of in certain circumstances. Q hummed at Mycroft from under the pile of blankets that looked more like a nest than a neatly made bed.     
  
"Are you awake and listening to me?"   
  
"No.  Not even time for Fran to wake me yet."  A voice... harsh, scratchy from somewhere underneath the pile.  "Go away.  Feel like death warmed up."   
  
Mycroft pulled back the blankets searching for his youngest sibling.  His pale skin had a gray tinge.  Sweat beaded on his forehead.  "Go away," came out again as more of a deep wet cough than words.  Mycroft lay the back of his hand against Q's cheek and was immediately out in the corridor.   
  
"Francis!" The ever distinguished Mycroft was being oh so undistinguished.  "Call Dr. Andrews post haste!   He's feverish! Burning up!"     
  
"It's not uncommon for patients recovering from severe injuries, that are even partially bed bound, to develop pneumonia.  Lack of activity aggravates it." Andrews explained to his agitated employer at the door of Q's room.  Staff nurses were setting up an IV and bathing him with cool flannels.  "We'll need to keep a closer watch on this.  It's the second time it's flared. There are bound to be more."   
  
"He was always susceptible as a child."  Mycroft sighed adjusting his waistcoat, a nervous tell.     
  
James crouched by the side of the mat breathing heavily.  Sweat stained his light grey sweats almost black in places and dripped into his eyes.  "Fuck!" he swore under his breath, willing his heart to stop pounding.  It hadn't even been a heavy workout this time around, almost as though the instructor was going easy on him.  Not that it felt fucking easy.  He was getting old, slow.

"That will be all for today, 007.  Report will be with M in time for your briefing this evening.  You have an appointment in Medical in two hours."

Bond grunted his acknowledgement and as soon as the gym door swung shut he collapsed onto the mat with a groan, rolling onto his back and staring up at the ceiling.  As usual his thoughts drifted to Q and he thumped the mat in frustration.  There had been no news.  Mallory and Moneypenny steadfastly refused to say anything of use, although Moneypenny had barely left him alone in the last few days, hiding the booze she could find and lecturing him when he saluted her with prizes she'd missed.  Fuck... maybe he should have listened...

He showered and dressed, then headed down to the range collecting his weapon on the way, but before he could set up his targets he was stopped.  "007.  You don't have clearance.  I'm sorry.  I have to ask you to leave and report to the Quartermaster."

For a moment Bond thought the impossible, then remembered R was acting head.  He found her kitting out 003, unusually harassed and on the verge of yelling at the agent, and the techs who were scurrying around.  "You wanted to see me?"

R turned on him.  "You!  My office!  Simon, finish up here!"  R didn't even bother to close the door before she began scolding him.  "What are you doing, 007?  Have you seen your blood results?  Mallory has pulled you from this bloody mission and I'm sending out 003 only half prepared in your place.  What do you think Q would say?"

 


	39. Chapter 39

"Zaquary can you hear me?"   
  
There was a voice.  Somewhere.  One he didn't know. But it was talking to him. His arms wouldn't move and neither would his legs.  He started to panic.  Where was he?  Back there?  Oh fucking god he was still captive. He had been dreaming. Bond hadn't found him. He struggled to push the fog away that he was sure he was going to drown in.    
  
"Zaquary.  Calm down. You're fine."  The voice he didn't know again.    
  
"Noooo," he struggled to free himself, beginning to panic. Tried to push at the voice with his hands but nothing seemed to work.    
  
"Zaquary!  Be still.  You'll tear your leg open once more."  A hand lay gently on his shoulder.  A voice he knew.  Mycroft.  He struggled to open his eyes which were refusing to cooperate, arms felt like rubber.    
  
"Cold..."  He heard his brother say to someone else believed was in the room with in the room.   
  
"Could we have another blanket here."  He called to the staff he knew were stationed directly outside the door.  "You're head will clear soon.  The surgeon removed the rods from your leg.   Don't you remember."   
  
"Bloody hell."  Those words came out clear, struggling to try to sit up in the bed.    
  
"Stop it!  You are such a toddler sometimes, Zaquary.  Just lie still."   
  
  


Another mission.  Another country.  Alec was wired from too much caffeine and too little sleep.  Battered, bloody and alone.  Fuck... so alone.  He dialled a familiar number and listened to the voicemail message for the hundredth time, ignoring the bed spring that poked into his sore kidney.  Eventually he abandoned all thought of sleep and dragged the laptop from under the bed, and began to check the communications from his side project.

"Rachmaninoff is composing" he read, and a Swiss telephone number was quoted below the message.  Alec dialled it and listened to a recording in German informing him the number was out of service.  A second number was given to direct further enquiries, this one simply stating abruptly "Leave a message and number."  He did so and then lay down to try and sleep.  
  
There was no guarantee that Rachmaninoff was in fact Q.  It was a name he'd used, certainly, and one that Alec had discovered by accident.  If Q was working again, would he really use a name that Alec could trace?  Alec sighed and tried to get comfortable, phone tucked under his pillow.  After three months it was his first possible lead.  He couldn't just ignore it, but he was starting to feel he was chasing shadows.


	40. Chapter 40

Being Acting Quartermaster had its advantages.  No one watched over your shoulder (as if Q ever did that to her anyway). No one seconded guessed your assignments to minions.  No one questioned your requests.  So when the Quartermaster requests copies all security video footage from within MI6, the car park, and the surrounding streets for three blocks for three specific dates, no one even bats an eye.    
  
R assigned Simon and Prisha  to comb through the footage frame by frame hoping to find something related to Q's disappearance.   “I need to go over this footage. I know I can trust you two to be silent.   There has to be something here about Q’s discharge and with who.  He couldn't have walked out of here on his own.  Find it!”   

Q  Branch wanted their Quartermaster back as much as the Chuckle Brothers did.  R didn't want to be Quartermaster. All she was doing was attempting to maintain status quo until Q returned.  She prayed he would return, hoping everything she had heard about his injuries was an exaggeration.    
  
After clocking a good eleven hours of research, a bleary eyed Simon and Prisha approached her. "I think we may have found something. Maybe.  At least we hope."   
  
R stepped back from her workstation and motioned them to follow her into Q's office.   Closing the door behind them, she set the room securities to privacy. "Alright.  Let's see it."     
  
"Here," Simon spread some pages out on the workstation.  "Just before the time we think Q was removed from Medical, there is a brief glimpse of a dark Bentley pulling into the secure Admin parking level."      
  
"Obviously a governmental vehicle.  And for three or four frames in the footage, there is this man."  Prisha held out a single page to her. A tall ginger haired man in an expensive suit is visible. "Other than him, there is nothing unusual. Nothing out of place."   
  
"Any identity?"   
  
"We ran him through facial recognition and came up with absolutely bloody nothing.  Not one small ping of anything."  Simon headed her copies of the few frames he appeared in.    
  
"That's impossible.  It's a government vehicle.  He can't arrive in a government vehicle and their be nothing on record about him."  R stared at the pages in front of her, sifting through the different angles from other camera placements.  Suddenly a thought occurred to her.  She marched back out into the main team room.    
  
"Tanner!  Who is this?  Recognise him?" R slid the picture across the desktop where he was seated going over mission reports.    
  
"Holmes from the Ministry.  The Queen's right hand. Why?"   Was out of Tanner's mouth even before he realised what he was answering.    
  



	41. Chapter 41

"No! Not doing any more!" Sweat beaded on Q's brow as he reached the end of the room and slowly turned, cautiously placing the base of his crutch against the skirting board so it wouldn't slip from under him again. His arse had hit the floor once too often this week, and every time it did so he lay there for at least ten minutes, fearing that his leg would somehow be broken again. Not yet but the bruises were colourful.

"You've still got more in you, Zaquary" Kyle chuckled. "You haven't called me a bastard yet today. How’s it going with the hand exercises? I see you're managing well with the adapted crutches."

Q maneuvered cautiously back to the desk Mycroft had set up for him, and sat awkwardly. He still hadn't mastered getting up and down using the crutches. "Fine!" he snapped reaching for his water bottle. He fumbled it and it hit the floor, bouncing and squirting across the floor. "Fuck! Fucking fuck!"

Kyle picked it up. "The tablet, Zaquary. I know you've been using it. It records your activity, remember? Now, show me."

Q remembered. He had resisted the lure of the tablet for over a week before boredom and inactivity got the better of him, and the first thing he'd done was check out exactly what data Kyle was able to capture with it. The second was ensuring he could use it for his own purposes, should he decide to, without Kyle monitoring him. He huffed, but picked up the tablet from the desk, sliding his mangled left hand into the handle on the back of the case. He had to admit, he probably couldn't have designed anything better.

"There... See, all your little tests, completed daily."

Kyle hummed. "Your brother warned me about you and technology. I said show me."

"Bastard!" Q muttered but began to slowly work his way through the fingering exercises.

"That's more like it."

  
R hurriedly sent a message to Bond and Trevelyan. “First on in here see me. Possible intel.”

And then sent another message to Trevelyan. “Bond’s mobile not receiving messages. See me.”

 


	42. Chapter 42

“Why do you come back here every week?” Q accepted the cup of tea that Dr. Greenwell was handing him. “The tea and biscuits can’t be that amazing.”

“You know why, Zaquary.”

“Oh yes, I forgot. It must be the exorbitant salary my brother pays you to come and annoy me every week.” Q stares at the other man over the top of his cup.

“I see you’ve made some progress in your physical therapy.” The physician motioned to the wheel chair that sat on the other side of the room. Q had managed to get from the wheelchair with his crutches and move to the high backed chair on the other side of the room. He had come to his appointment with Dr. Greenwell early, wanting to be already seated when the man arrived. It had taken him what seemed like an eternity. He hadn’t wanted the Greenwell to see how he struggled to manage it, how it frustrated him to no end. It would just give the man more ammunition to pester him.

“Some.” Was all the answer Q would give him.

“Would you like to tell me about it.”

“No. Nothing to tell.”

“Someday Zaquary, you need to open up about all of this.” Greenwell sighed.

“I highly doubt that will ever happen, Dr. Greenwell.”  
  
Greenwell had long since left. Their appointment just as it always was. Lots of questions. No replies.

Q stood at the door leading out to the garden, bracing himself against the door frame. Tired but managing to stand there for a few moments. Shakily, but managing. He couldn’t remember the last time he had been outside. And honestly, taking that initiative to step out into the garden was more than he could push himself into doing. Outside meant others, out of the realm of his safety within these walls.

The possibility of it all happening again.

He wasn’t sure he could ever do that again until he somehow managed to partition away all the things that haunted him.

“Zaquary? Can I help you with something? Fran’s familiar voice sounded from the kitchen doorway.

“No. Just thinking. But if you could get the wheelchair, I think I have reached my limit of fun for the day.”

His words were far away.

Distant.

Pulled into places he would rather not ever go again.

 


	43. Chapter 43

James couldn't decide what was worse, the banging on the door, or the banging in his head. He stumbled out of bed not even bothering with a robe. If the bastard compounding his headache was upset by his naked stinking self, then it serves him right for disturbing his peace. He staggered to the door and peered at the figure in the security camera.

"Alec, you fucker. When did you get back?"

Alec looked him up and down with distaste. "Bloody hell, James, I've seen you in some states but this is pathetic. Have you even sobered up since I saw you three weeks ago?"

"Why?" James swayed slightly where he stood, eyes glassy and lips slack as they tried to form the words without slurring. "On holiday, Alec! Mallory's orders. Come on, have a drink with me..." He turned with a lewd grin. "Then you can fuck me!"

"Like hell! You realise the acting Quartermaster has been trying to reach you with important intel?"

James snorted. "Not my Quartermaster. Never mine. Nice enough girl, but she's not Q..." He fell silent, staring around the flat as though he'd lost something. Maybe it was his mind. He didn't feel very sane right now... but here was Alec! Alec would sort it all out...

"Shower and dress. We're going out. You need coffee, a whole shit-load of coffee, and then we need to talk. After that, we're going to Mallory to see who the fuck this Mycroft Holmes is to Q, and where he took him."

James head whipped around so fast at Q's name he overbalanced, sprawling on the floor. "You know who took him? Tell me!" He crawled towards Alec on hands and knees, using the other man's clothing to haul himself up to his feet. "I'll even say please..." he wheedled.

"You have twenty minutes to be downstairs, looking presentable James. I'll wait in the car." Without another word Alec walked out letting the flat door slam behind him.

Q sat in sat on the sofa, injured leg resting on pillows. His crutches rested against the sofa within his grasp. It would be a struggle for him to rise from there, but it was something he needed to learn how to navigate, so he pushed himself. His leg still pained him greatly. He and Kyle had discussed in depth what the outcomes for his prognosis was long term. It would be limited, never regaining back the mobility that he once had.

He had managed to drag his laptop along with him to the sofa, settling in with it. It was a slow frustrating but he managed to spend a couple hours working on a project. Typing was an issue but he was improving, and he needed this distraction. Falling back into things off the grid that he knew well and was extremely talented in made him forget for a while that he would more than likely never be going back to MI6.

“Zaquary?” It was Fran. He knew the sound of her walk. All the staff had begun to walk a little louder. Talk out loud when they approached him. Make a little extra noise as they worked whether it was in the kitchen, cleaning or what not. They all had learnt that he was skittish and needed that acknowledgment that someone else was in his vicinity. Otherwise, he jumped, became overly nervous, feared the shadows… he had overheard them talking quietly amongst themselves about the youngest of the siblings walking a fine line, even more so than the middle one.

“You’ve been sitting here way too long. You have to be getting stiff and hurting. Besides, it’s time for dinner.”

“Mother hen.” Q’s chided her. “But you’re right. Been here too long.” He laid the tablet down and reached for his crutches. “Don’t leave me yet because I will probably end up on my arse again.” He huffed struggling to get the crutches underneath him. Cursing loudly, he used the arm of the sofa to try to leverage himself up.

“I think there is something chocolate for dessert, if that is any incentive.” Fran teased him.

 


	44. Chapter 44

The red haired man laid down his cake fork and dabbed delicately at his lips with the corner of a pristine linen napkin. He sipped from a half full glass of red wine. Too bitter after the rich delicate confections, but it would be a crime to let such a good vintage go to waste. Besides, the two men seated at the table to his right, trying to look inconspicuous, were yet to approach him.

He waited ten more minutes, checking his watch and sighed quietly. The restaurant was almost empty and his car would be waiting outside. Making a decision he turned to the shorter of the two blonds who was stirring sugar into coffee that must surely be cold.

"I do hope the rest of Her Majesty's agents are more adept at undercover work than you gentlemen. Mycroft Holmes." he offered them a smug smile but didn't rise or hold out a hand to shake. "I know who you are, of course. Bond. And Trevelyan." he nodded at each in turn. "I assume you wish to speak with me?"

"Q. Where is he? Where are you hiding him?" James abandoned all pretence at drinking the coffee and leaned towards the thin man. Alec simply studied him for a moment, trying to see a family resemblance in the features, though their colouring was so different.

"Za... Q... Is exactly where he needs to be, and he is there at his own request. I simply facilitated the move and I will not be revealing his location no matter how you choose to press me."

"We have a right to know!" James jumped up, temper flaring instantly. So close. He wouldn't let this lead leave with the man who was now standing and straightening his suit.

Alec was on his feet also, one restraining hand on James' shoulder. "I don't know if you are aware, Mr Holmes, but Q is..."

"I am perfectly aware Mr Trevelyan, what Q is to you and Mr Bond. My brother however gave me instructions that I intend to follow to the letter. With specific regard to the pair of you, in fact." Mycroft smiled. "He will neither accept, nor send, any communication to either of you for the duration of his rehabilitation, and he asks that I ensure you do not seek him out. When he is ready he will contact you. Good day, gentlemen. I have nothing further to add."

  
Kyle turned his back for just a moment to pick up his   
tablet but his attention was drawn back immediately by a crashing thud, a loud moan of pain, and lots of muttered curses. “Bloody fucking buggering hell…”

“Alright? What happened? Lie still.” He knelt next to a prone Q on the floor giving his leg a quick once over to make sure there was no new damage. New damage would mean more surgery and a setback, possible further injury that would not be repairable.

“I have no idea. Just… bloody fuck…Might help if I had hands that could grip the crutches proper” he huffed. Q lay still assessing what hurt the most and where. This was going to leave spectacular bruises in the morning.

“Did you hit your head? Anything new broken?”

“Only my will to continue with this charade. Please tell me are done for the day.” Q closed his eyes trying to will away the moisture that was threatening at the corners of his eyes and swallowed hard. He hadn’t managed a session with his crutches without falling at least once. It was unacceptable and the inevitable fate of his recovery loomed darkly, very much so.

Kyle sat on the floor next to Q giving him some time to regroup before they attempted to get him up off the floor. “One more attempt and then we will be done. Besides Greenwell will be here to see you soon.”

“Get me up,” he clutched at Kyle arm trying to pull himself up into a seated position. “Fran!” He called out knowing she was never really far away in case he needed something. “Donotletthatmaninthishouse! I refuse to have him try to play 20 questions with me one more time! I'm won't see him. And you can tell my brother that too. I'm fine!”

 


	45. Chapter 45

Alec stretched out on the hotel bed, laptop balanced on his stomach. He browsed the communications he had received over the previous few weeks. Most were untraceable, at least for his skills but they made one thing clear. Rachmaninov was active. Small scale, jobs that would remain under the radar of Six, but definitely sticking his head above the parapet.

Alec picked up his personal mobile and dialled James, waiting an age for it to connect.

"Yeah?" The voice was scratchy and half asleep. Bad sign when it was three in the afternoon in London.

"He's definitely out there James. I have people keeping tabs on him."

James groaned and rolled onto his back, staring at the ceiling. The cramps in his stomach had intensified through the day and sweat soaked the bed clothes. "So?" He managed to croak. Alec still believed Q would come back. Fool. James had given up hope. He reached for solace only to find the bottle almost empty. "Fuck!"

"You have to get your act together James. Are you ill? Or just pissed again?" The simmering anger at his partner never quite left Alec any more. Were they still partners even? "You didn't give up on him before. Don't do so now."

"Give up?" James made a harsh sound. "He made it quite clear that I should, Alec. You can keep kidding yourself. Me? I'm done. Moving on." He drained the bottle, choking and coughing, gripping his abdomen as a fresh griping pain doubled him up. "Don't call again if all you want to talk about is him."

Alec was silent for a long moment, then "See a doctor, James. You're sick." He disconnected and threw the phone against the wall.

 


	46. Chapter 46

James fell back against the bath panel, eyes closed and breath coming in short gasps. There was blood in the toilet bowl, mixed in with the vomit that reeked of whisky. Had been for days now. The cramping in his stomach was overwhelming, but there was nothing of substance to evacuate any more. James was in deep shit, he knew it, but found he couldn't really care any more. It was his punishment for past mistakes and he welcomed it like a lover.

There was a buzzing from somewhere near his left hand. It was as annoying as a fly, persistent and irritating. He flapped at the imaginary insect but it wouldn't leave him alone. His mind wandered off on a tangent, thinking of the insects that seemed to crawl beneath his skin. He convulsed and spewed again.

James shuddered, and forced his eyes open. The world was tilted and smelled sour and hot. The buzzing started again, this time near his cheek. His face was pressed against the tiled floor of the bathroom, and the vibrating black object danced closer to his eyes. Phone. It was his phone. He reached for it, but it slid away from him, skidding across the tiles. A short while later there was absolute silence.

Moneypenny sighed and hung up. She would have to go round to the flat again if Bond wouldn't pick up. He hadn't been into Six in over a month and Mallory had declared him sidelined indefinitely. Q still wouldn't answer either, and Alec seemed to have washed his hands of him, leaving her feeling like the only one who cared. Tomorrow. Tomorrow would be soon enough. She would stop off for groceries, maybe stay to cook him a proper meal. Somebody had to care.

 


	47. Chapter 47

“You might as well tell him not to come back and stop paying the man whatever exorbitant fee he is charging you, because I am not going to talk to him.” Q snarled at his brother.  “Can’t you get that through your head.  I am dealing with this.”

“And what makes you think you are doing that, Zaquary.  From my vantage point that is not what I am observing at all.”

“Your vantage point can fuck off, Mycroft!” Q slowly made his way across the room towards the high backed chair that had become one of his favourite places to sit.  It was an arduous painful task, but he refused to let his brother see it for what it was but the elder observed every movement and twinge that he made.

“I think you are being ridiculous and childish in this matter Zaquary.”

“And that is nothing new to the way you have always seen me.  Try again Mycroft, not biting at that one.”  Q shot right back at him as he leaned heavily on the side of the chair trying to take some of the burden of the crutches off his hands.

“Have it your way, Zaquary.  You and I both know this will come back to bite you in the arse someday when you least expect it.”  With a deep sigh, he shook his head slightly at his sibling, adjusted his waistcoat as he headed for the door. “I do hope you don’t get these silly notions about your physical therapist also, Zaquary.  You’re going to need to live on your own again eventually.”

“Fuck off Mycroft!”  He wanted to throw something at him, but couldn’t let go of his crutches and do that at the same time.  As he started to maneuver to sit in the chair his mobile ran.  Fumbling for it and just as he got it in his hand, he managed to tangle himself up with the chair and his crutches and before he knew it he was on the floor again.  

Phone lay buzzing next to his head with the name and number glaring at him.   Moneypenny.  That meant it was Tuesday at 2:00 pm.  Her weekly phone call that had started right after he had left MI6. 

Moneypenny trying to contact him like clockwork. 

All these months. 

And just as always, he didn’t answer it.

Just let it ring and go to voicemail.

But today, it was just too much.

And for the first time in months, he laid on the floor as tears crept down his face watching the screen of his mobile. 

 


	48. Chapter 48

It was Fran who found him struggling to haul himself back into his chair while his mobile rang and stopped, rang and stopped.  They both ignored it until Q was back in his seat.  Fran handed it to him.  "Your friend is very eager to speak to you today.  Perhaps you should answer it?"   
  
"Perhaps you should mind your own business!" Q snapped shoving the mobile down the side of his cushion to muffle the ringing.  He could just switch it to silent but in a perverse kind of way it made him believe someone actually still cared if he was alive.  Still, Moneypenny never called at any other time, and never more than once.   
  
Fran was impossible to offend.  "Milk and cookies for the toddler?"  She patted his shoulder and smiled.  "Be back in half an hour.  Call your friend.  Reach out."   
  
"Interfering cow" Q muttered to her retreating back.  He liked her.  Perhaps he'd take her with him when he left.     
  
He closed his eyes and leaned back in the chair, fishing for his mobile which had finally stopped buzzing.  There was a text message… Answer the phone, or if you won't, listen to voicemail.  It's important.   
  
When Fran returned he was motionless, a mutilated hand still clinging desperately to his mobile.  Tears streaming down his pale face.  "He's dead..."

  
  



	49. Chapter 49

After his sobbing ceased, Q retreated within himself further.  He refused to speak to anyone, except for Fran.  And only on occasions when he needed the interaction. He refused to even snark at Mycroft, which only heightened everyone's sense of concern.   He continued with his rehabilitation but became even more reclusive than he had been.  

He was determined to avoid Bond's memorial service and funeral even though there had been repeated voicemail from Moneypenny about where and when, that she and Alec would both be there for him, that Alec needed him, and on and on. However, it was a tangible event that marked the turn their lives had taken.  

He was not ready to confront or acknowledge that fact, and possibly never would be.    
  
What Bond's death did do to him was spur him even more towards his decision to depart from the constant watch of his brother.  He was nowhere near ready to be on his own, as he perceived, but he was determined that it needed to happen soon, rather than later.  And so his plot to escape began to take shape.     
  
Nevertheless, he wasn't ready completely ready to leave the London area and its security.   What he needed was a place of his own, away from watchful eyes, manageable with his physical hindrances. And it needed to be a space where he could resume his former line of work to provide for himself.   Money at this point wasn't something he needed to be concerned about, having set aside funds from before MI6 in an offshore account, so the hunt began.   
  
He renewed contacts and called in favours from past "colleagues" and within a few weeks had a home purchased and refitted to his needs, ready to move on except for one thing.    
  
Late in the one evening, just before heading to bed after taking his late night medication, he stopped Fran as she was leaving the room.  "Fran, I'm leaving," he abruptly blurted out, catching her off guard.     
  
"Zaquary, you're not..."   
  
"I know. I know Fran.” waving a missing fingered hand in front of himself in acknowledgement.  “Before you start in on me listen to what I have to say."  He motioned to her back into the room and to shut the door.    
  
"I need away from here. Away from Mycroft’s  hoovering and “I know what’s best for you Zaquary” if I am to ever recover and be on my own. I need to handle this in my own way, not his.  I've purchased a home.  Refitted it. Have made arrangements to be moved there.  I would like you to come with me." She started to interrupt him but he held up a hand stopping her, eyes pleading with her not to have a go at him.  

  
"It has quarter's for your own for your privacy. I will pay you twice what Mycroft is paying you now.  The only condition is that you can not say a word to anyone where I have gone.  Not even Mycroft."


	50. Chapter 50

Alec stood at the window and watched the rain fall.  He had frequently found himself here in Moneypenny's flat in the weeks since the funeral.  She never turned him away, just silently handed him a beer or a plate of food, occasionally a pillow or duvet.  They didn't chat much, just kept each other company while they tried to deal with the events of the last eight months.

"I'm going to request a deep cover mission, Eve.  Be someone else for a while."  He turned to his dark haired friend who was curled up on the sofa.  "I need to move on, but not quite sure how when everywhere I turn I'm reminded of them both."

"I'll miss you."  She patted the sofa beside her and he reluctantly sat.  "I understand, Alec.  I thought that maybe Q... That eventually he would come back.  But I don't think that is going to happen."

Alec slumped back and rubbed his hands over his stubbled chin.  "I don't even know if he knows, Eve.  I've had no confirmation, no message...  Fuck!  If he knew... If he cared... He would come back, wouldn't he?  He would come back for..."

"For you."  She finished the thought for him.  "I don't think he's the man we knew any more, Alec.  With all that happened to him, I don't think it was just his body he considers broken."  She uncurled and went to the kitchen, returning with a bottle of champagne and two flutes.  "Not a celebration, but lets drink to moving on.  I'll speak to Mallory.  Smooth the way, on one condition."

"What?"

"You don't leave me too.  Not for good."


	51. Chapter 51

Q disappeared in the middle of the night one day from Mycroft's estate along with with his caretaker, Fran.  Neither was seen or heard from afterwards.   None of the other household staff had an inkling where they had gone.  This leaving had been well planned, not even Kyle had any idea what was happening.   Q had used all his talents, even the ones he had learned at MI6 to make his plan come to fruition.    
  
Mycroft had been livid and thoroughly interrogated all the household staff and set his own staff on the hunt.  But there was no trace of him anywhere.  Even the CCTV footage for blocks surrounding had been interrupted the night he disappeared.     
  
Q was struggling at his new residence.  He realized he should have considered asking Kyle to come along also.  But it was his own and he was determined to manage his own life, to make to mold in own way now.  But,  he was alone.     
  
His phone would ring daily.  Mycroft... With the same voicemail.     
  
Where are you?    
  
Are you taking care?   
  
Francis is with you, I assume.

I constantly worry about you.    
  
You need to stay out trouble, little brother.      
  
Come back to MI6 where you are safe. 

And so on...   
  
He made one untraceable phone call to Mycroft, and only one, to inform him  “You are a part of my past Mycroft.  You had your chance when I was growing up to be a part of my life and you ignored me.  You will not direct or dictate my future.”  And promptly hung up on him.  

And Moneypenny still called also...  

Tuesday... 

2 pm.  

Like clockwork.   
  
One night, in the darkness, when the walls were closing in and his demons hovered, he dialled a mobile number in his favourites, just to hear a deep accented familiar voice.  He listened until he was prompted to leave a message, but couldn't bring himself to do it.   
  



	52. Chapter 52

Fran wandered out of her bathroom towelling her hair dry.  It had been a long week, Q's temper stretching even her good humour a couple of times.  What she needed was a steaming mug of hot chocolate and an hour with her current trashy novel. Now that Q had determined he could manage his breakfast routine himself, she could have a lie in.  Well... she'd allow herself an hour maybe.

She dressed in pyjamas, winding her damp hair into a loose plait and tucked her book under her arm.  Her quarters were equipped with a tiny kitchen, because most of their cooking and meals were taken in the large open plan space on the ground floor, but she had made it into a cosy little haven with a battered armchair, lamp and side table crammed into the corner.

As she passed the small table in her hallway she flicked on the radio and turned the volume way down low.  A bit of background babble was company.  Not the she really minded spending so much time alone or with Q, but it was good to have some voices other than their own sometimes.  The kitchen light flared when she flicked the switch and her book tumbled to the floor.

"Don't scream"  The large blond man dwarfed her little chair.  

He remained seated, not wanting to frighten her even more, or sounding an alarm that there was an intruder.  “I'm not going to hurt you. I’m here looking for Q.”

Fran froze in place.  She had seen this sort of man in the presence of Mr. Holmes, lingering at the perimeter.  She knew to be cautious of them.  But this man was different.  Raw.  Lethal.

“I just want to talk to Q.  I’ve been searching for him.”

And then it occurred to Fran, “You’re one of the agents.  Zaquary's former lovers.”

“I still am and I need to see him,” He stood, towering over her, words claiming his role in Zaquary’s life. “I’ve been searching for him since his bastard brother carted him away.”

“Zaquary… He may not,” Fran hesitated not sure how much information she should openly supply him with.  “He might not be the Zaquary… the Q, you remember.”

“Where can I find him?  Has he already gone to bed for the night?”  

“He was still up at his computer when I retired.  He may have gone to bed by now.”  Fran debated trying to warn Zaquary that this man was on the premises.  It would be better if she could get to him first but doubted he would let that would happen.  And when he pressed her for where Zaquary could located in the house, she found herself telling him instead. There was something about his insistence, his need to find Zaquary.  

“Stay!  Not a sound out of you!”  The large blond  man pointed a menacing finger at her emphasizing his intent behind his words.  

 


	53. Chapter 53

Alec moved silently down through the house, noting all of the changes that had been made to ease Q's life. Everything was of the highest spec and a fair proportion of it appeared to be very high tech. Same old Q. Pure mechanics would never satisfy him.

The girl... Alec hadn't asked her name and he felt bad about that, but he was so damn close, it was all he could do not to run... She hadn't said exactly where on the ground floor Q would be. It seemed to be all in darkness but as he stepped onto the floor in the large hallway it lit up like Christmas. "Fuck!" Alec hissed, stepping back into the shadows of the staircase. After a couple of tense moments the light winked out again and Alec allowed himself to breathe again.

"What the fuck am I doing?" he murmured to himself. If all of the lights on this floor were motion controlled he had no hope of sneaking up on Q, but... He didn't want to scare Q, but he felt he'd lost an advantage. A piece of armour had suddenly turned as protective as silk. "Move, you arse!"

Quietly he crossed the hall, anticipating the light, and pausing in the doorway to a spacious lounge. It was empty, but a faint light shone around the edge of a partially open door. Music... Piano music. Rachmaninoff. "Oh you little shite, Q" Alec chuckled.

 


	54. Chapter 54

Alec cautiously made his way over to the partially open door, pressing himself up against the wall in the shadow surrounding the doorway. Slowly he maneuvered himself to where he could get a glimpse through the few open inches into the room that appeared to be a massive bedroom. Q stood at the far end of the room, back to the door, in front of what appeared to be a large desk with every imaginable tech toy to occupy him.

He stood silently just outside the room watching him. Dressed in only a pair of pyjama pants that hung precariously off his hips. Much thinner than he remembered him ever being. Pale skin marred by his time spent at the hands of Bond’s vengeful mark. Dark hair grown out and curly waves fell way below his ears, hiding the one that was now missing.

But what stood out most was the black mesh lacing of the specialized crutches around his upper arms.

Crisscrossing the pale skin.

Tethering them so he wouldn’t lose them when trying to use his hands for things.

Always present.

Q seemed to be pottering around with something, completely distracted, and did not heard Alec’s movement when he was startled suddenly by a ‘meow’ and the large Black and white cat curling itself around his ankles. Alec bent down grabbing the feline. Tucking it under his chin, he stroked its ears trying to hush it until it squirmed so much he couldn’t contain it anymore, letting it jump to the floor again.

The cat proceeded to waltz into the bedroom, directly to where Q was tinkering, jumping right in the middle of his desk. “Get off my keyboard, you rotten pest! What in the world of you been doing out there to entertain yourself, huh? Terrorizing the house?” The cat arched up and rubbed herself against him wanting a scratch. Q leant down to brush his cheek against the top of her head.

  
Suddenly his eyes went wide. He grabbed her by a stray leg, pulling her back towards him, as he pressed his face to her fur again. “Fuck…” he whispered, grabbing for his mobile, and with the press of a few keys the entire security of the house was live.

He slowly turned around, steadying himself against the desk, taking a deep unsteady breath.

His hands shook.

He knew that cologne anywhere.

Would never forget it.

Alec was in the house.

 


	55. Chapter 55

Alec ducked back behind the door, holding his breath and listening carefully. Something had spooked Q and Alec didn't think it was him. The cat maybe? Silently Alec scanned the living room and noted that the television had flickered into life. No sound, but it was displaying the view from several security cameras, presumably locate around the house. Yes, Q was definitely spooked, and judging by the way the camera views were panning, he was searching for the culprit. Fuck! It wasn't his intention to scare the little shite.

The lower right section of the screen was a view of the room Alec was in. He watched the image track across the far wall and from its progress was able to determine the position of the camera. There. A tiny, almost invisible glint of a lens, high on the wall and out of reach without a ladder. Alec sighed. Stood still with hands out, empty palms up. Waited...

There was a soft curse from beyond the door, then absolute silence. The music had stopped. There were no soft sounds of keys clicking. Alec watched himself on screen, looking back. Unnerving. But not as unnerving as the total quiet on the other side of the door. With a deep breath Alec steeled himself to slowly push the door open.

Q stood exactly where Alec had first seen him, back to the door, staring at a laptop. His crutches supported him but his hands were held loosely behind his back. A small handgun held loosely in his right hand.

"I can use this, Alec. I adapted it myself. Taught myself to shoot with my less dominant hand seeing as it was more intact than the other. Oh, I'm not great, but then I only need to hit you once."

"Q..?"

"Zaquary, please. Q is dead, I believe. I can't quite decide if he will be resurrected, but my gut feeling is not. Could you please place your gun in the drawer over there? And sit."

Alec crossed the room and placed the gun in the indicated cabinet, then seated himself on the small firm leather sofa. Now he was here, he was at a loss to know what to say. He didn't need to worry, Q seemed to have words at the ready.

"I knew this day would come eventually. I had prepared a speech, but... well, it seems to have flown out of my head now that you are here." Q turned slowly, carefully. He seemed adept at using the cleverly modified crutches. "You look... well. Don’t bother trying to return the nicety because I know I look like fucking hell.”

Q didn’t move away from his desk, keeping some distance between himself and Alec. He wasn’t sure how this scenario would play out. God knows he had gone over it time and time again in his head, knowing he would eventually be found by someone from the agency. After all, it was there job. “I must admit, I’m not quite sure why you are here. But, you’ve found me.”

“We’ve... “ he hesitated for a moment, before continuing, because now it was only him, “I’ve been searching for you since you disappeared. Never stopped.” He wanted to get up, cross the room and pull the younger man in close again like he had so many times in the pass. But he recognized immediately that this in many ways was not the younger man he loved. Many things were still broken, unhealed.  
Q sighed, the sight of his crutches, black strapping buckled again his pale skin, was just a reminder that things had changed in their world and more than likely would never come close to being the same. Something he could not burden Alec with. “I’m not coming back to that world, Alec.” Words coming out barely audible.

"You said a minute ago that you didn't know..." Alec didn't want to push him too far, but there were so many questions he needed to ask. "You are working again. As Rachmaninoff."

Q gave a small smile and reached behind him to place the gun on his desk. "Perhaps not the alias I should have gone back to, but for the type of work I was capable of initially, it had the most appropriate history. Some remember me. That's how you found me? You've expanded your field of knowledge into a whole new area, if so."

"You don't live with a successful former hacker without picking up one or two useful tips. Speak to the right people, cross the right palms with silver, and even a luddite can follow a trail that someone isn't working too hard to conceal from the right eyes..."

"It wasn't a conscious decision on my part," Q smirked, "but perhaps you're right." He straightened up, settling his arms more comfortably into the webbing and then crossed the room to a high backed chair close to where Alec sat. "Now that you've found me, what do you want Alec?"

"You," Alec wanted to say, and yet... This wasn't the Q he knew. There was something hard, yet brittle, about the damaged young man opposite him that tugged at Alec's protective instincts, but there was an invisible barrier that he was cautious of crossing.

"I just want to know you're safe. Happy. Cared for." Alec looked up as the door creaked open and Fran's head appeared around it.

"I didn't hear yelling, so I was concerned. He's generally a bad tempered thing. Everything ok?" She looked from one man to the other but didn't venture further into the room. "Can I get you anything?"

"No, thank you Fran. Alec isn't staying long."

“I’m not?” Alec looked at him hopefully. Now that he had finally found him, he was extremely reluctant to walk away from Q now.

Q nodded at him silently. “It’s so against my better judgement, but I am trusting you to not tell anyone else where I am, Alec.”

“Are you alright Q? Here… by yourself.”

“As much as can be expected I suppose.” Q sighed and rose from the chair, maneuvering himself up with the help of his crutches. It was hard for Alec to stand back and not reach out a hand to steady the younger man and help him upright.

Alec’s hand came up wanting to touch the side of Q’s face, brush through his hair, but Q took a step backwards away from him, an almost fearful look in his eyes that Alec recognized, having seen it too many times before.

Broken.

“I’ll be back Q… Zaquary,” he caught himself. “Whenever I can. Between missions. To…. See if you need anything.”

Q didn’t answer him. He didn’t know whether he could handle that or not. But he did know that now that he had found him, there would be no keeping Alec away. Something they would just have to deal with in the future.

“You know how to contact me. Just call. Anytime.” Alec headed towards the door, stopping to look back one more time at the young man who had been his lover standing there. ‘Maybe...’ the thought passed through his mind, before leaving.

Q sank back down into the chair.

Tears fell for a life that was lost and long since passed.

 


End file.
